Behind the Wall of Sleep
by Muffy Morrigan
Summary: Sent on a hunt by an old friend, Dean is poisoned and then horribly injured after their prey attacks him. Even if Sam can figure it out can he save Dean? Or will he make a mistake that will cost his brother his life? HurtDean, protective Sam. NOW COMPLET
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Sorry, folks caught a huge formatting error, fixed it and reposted. _

_A/N: It's Heather03nmg's birthday and this fic is for her, a healthy dose of hurt Dean, worried protective Sam and all the other yumminess she loves. Thank you so much to TraSan for tracking Jim down for me and sharing a little bit of a scary ride. Thanks to Abni, the most amazing beta I could ask for, and Dennis for very helpful insight. Have no fear those of you following _Be Still my Beating Heart_, there will be a new chapter up very soon, but I had to premiere Heather's story for her birthday! Title and chapter quotes are from the song by Black Sabbath._

**Behind the Wall of Sleep**

**Chapter One**

_Feel your body falling to its knees  
Sleeping wall of remorse  
Turns your body to a corpse_

It was a sunny day, a blindingly bright day. The cold air sparkled with snow, the light dancing like bright diamonds on the white ground. The yellow and brown leaves still clinging to the trees were frosted with snow. The air was fresh, the smell of frost, of frozen moisture filling the air.

"Tell me more about it again?" Dean said looking across the car to his brother. After a late night, _And ok, maybe one or two too many, _he was in the passenger seat, sunglasses over bleary eyes and the mother of all headaches pounding behind his temples. He turned the stereo down a bit. _To hear Sam, not because I have a hangover at all._

"Charlie called, remember him? He and dad used to hunt together sometimes." Sam turned the stereo up a tiny bit.

"I haven't seen him since that last hunt with dad," Dean said a little nervously. He turned the stereo back down.

"That's the one when…" Sam turned the stereo up.

"Yeah, demon got him, lost his sight and his leg, yeah. Dad blamed himself, I blame myself, Charlie never said anything at all," Dean said. He turned the stereo down.

"I remember. Anyway, he said there is something killing hikers and even skiers and snowshoers in the backcountry. He wants us to check it out. Said he'd appreciate it," Sam said, turning the stereo back up louder than before.

"Maybe it's just a bear or something," Dean said, turning the stereo down again.

"Could be, but no footprints or anything, and Dean? Bears are usually napping at this time of the year, remember?" Sam smiled and turned the stereo back up.

"Remember from where Sam? The three bears only sleep in their beds." He turned the stereo down.

"Wild Kingdom? Didn't they do a show on bears once?" Sam eased the stereo up again.

"I only watched that to see if that one guy ever got eaten—you know 'while I stand here Jim will wrestle that killer crocodile that has already consumed fifteen natives'." Dean said with a smile, turning the stereo down.

"Oh, yeah I remember, but bears sleep at this time of year, trust me on that, Dean" Sam said, he turned the stereo back up, even louder than it had been.

Dean stabbed a finger towards the stereo and nearly broke it when he turned it off, a little more violently than he had planned. "So tell me more about the hunt." He looked over at his brother, Sam was grinning at him. "Shut up, Sammy."

"So we are meeting Charlie and a friend of his up the road here. His friend will take us up to the line shack we can use as a base, it's in the general area of most of the attacks," Sam said. He was still smiling, although he looked a little nervous, maybe even a little worried.

"What?"_I am getting suspicious. He's not telling me something. What, Sam?_

"Nothing, Dean."

Dean leaned his aching head back against the seat, cracking the window a little to let the cold air wash over his face. He was listening to his brother humming softly, a much more soothing sound than Black Sabbath. _Not that I would ever tell him that._The melody started forming into words in his head. He started silently singing along until it hit him. "Dude, are you humming Rocky Mountain High? John Denver?" he said with mock horror.

"Uh, maybe, hadn't really thought about it," Sam said, looking over at him.

"What is it, Sam? You might as well tell me now, it can't possibly be worse than hearing you humming John Denver," Dean said.

"Does it worry you that you were humming along with me?"

"What? No I wasn't. Come on, tell me. You nearly made me hum along with John Denver, how much worse can it get?"

"Hey, here's Charlie's place," Sam said, changing the subject as he pulled through a gate in a log fence. He maneuvered up the winding gravel road. "Doesn't look like our ride is here yet. There's Charlie," he said pointing at man on the top step of the cabin.

He parked the car in front of the cabin and they got out, grabbing backpacks and the weapon bag Sam had packed the night before while Dean was out. They walked up to the man standing waiting at the cabin door. Dean hung back a little behind Sam.

"Hi, boys," Charlie said, grinning and holding out his hand so he could grab Sam's hand in a hearty handshake. "It's great to see the two of you," he held out his hand for Dean's hand as well. "Sorry about your dad, I still miss him." He ushered them inside. "Bill isn't here yet, so come in and have a little coffee before you take off."

"Aspirin? You have any aspirin, Charlie?" Dean said pulling his sunglasses of in the relatively darker cabin.

Charlie glanced over with his sightless eyes and laughed. "Like that is it?" He left the room and was back a minute later with two cups, small wisps of steam rising off the coffee. He also had a slightly brown-tinged glass of water in his hand. "Sorry, lots of iron in the water up here." He handed a cup of coffee and the glass to Dean and pulled a pack of alka seltzer out of his shirt pocket.

"Thanks," Dean said, dropping the tablets in the water and watching them dissolve. There was a little layer of sediment floating at the top of the glass. Dean drank it in one gulp and belched.

Sam sat down with the other cup of coffee in his hands. "Can you tell us anymore? Have there been more attacks?'

"Not since I called you," Charlie said. "Last ones we found were a couple of early-season skiers, heading out into the backcountry. When they were overdue their friends called, Bill headed out and found them, well sort of, skis covered in blood, one of them must have been dragged off, saw the track of the body, that's all."

"Nice, and you think it's not natural?" Dean said, already feeling a little relief from the alka seltzer. _Head still hurts, but it's better. But that water? Gross. Coffee covers the taste though. _He paused, he could hear something, but couldn't quite identify the sound yet, it was mostly just the pounding against his headache.

"No, I definitely think it is not natural," Charlie said. "Why I called you boys, it reminds me of a case your dad went out on a couple of years ago. Up Montana way."

"Yeah," Dean said. _That was a fun hunt. Really fun—best part? The night we were attacked by whatever it was and I was nearly mauled, if it hadn't been for dad's quick thinking neither one of us would have made it out. _The sound was getting closer.

"Dean?" His brother was looking at him, the little frown of concern on his face. He knew something was bothering Dean.

"Nothing," he said, cocking his head listening to the approaching sound. It got closer and closer then the sound was reduced. Suddenly it made sense. He got up and looked out the window. His heart stopped.

"Rides here," Charlie said with a smile.

"No, no. Hell no, Sam," Dean said, his mouth was dry, he was starting to panic. _Calm, I need to be calm, breathing easy. See how calm I am, Sammy? I wonder if I can get to the car before he can grab me._

"Let's go," Sam said grabbing his backpack and the weapons bag. "Dean?"

"No, no way," he said. _That didn't sound very calm. Breathe. _"Let's drive, we can drive." _I might sound a little hysterical. _

"There are no roads, Dean. This is the only way in, this or walk," Sam said, grabbing his elbow and pulling him out the door. "And the last time we walked into a hunt it went so well."

"No, Sam, come on, please." _Calm, breathe, in through the nose out through the mouth. Calm, see I'm calm. Please, Sam, please no. Oh god, Sammy. Why didn't you tell me?_ Sam practically dragged him down the steps, pushing Dean's head down so the blades of the helicopter didn't decapitate him._Although that might be preferable, at least then I wouldn't have to do this. I swear if I live through this he's dead. I'm going to kill him for not mentioning this. Dead. Hear me, Sammy?_

"It'll be fun Dean," his brother said wrenching the door open and pushing Dean up onto the seat. "People pay a lot of money to do this."

"Then let them go, I'll walk," he said trying to hop out. Sam jumped onto the seat beside him and closed the door. _Oh god, I can look right through the floor to the ground. That will make this so much more fun. Not panicking, see how calm I am? See Sammy? Not screaming, see? At least not yet. _Sam handed him a set of headphones with a mic on them. Sam already had a set on.

"Hi, I'm Bill," the pilot said turning around. "Ready to go?" The blades started turning faster.

_Breathing, calm, very calm, see how calm I am? Here we go, oh nice I can watch as we plummet back to the ground, this is great. I remember reading once that helicopters really shouldn't fly, there is no reason they should. And the pilot, he looks like he's barely in control. We're going to die. How far is it? Why can't we walk? I wonder if I can get out here and drop on that tree and then walk in? I don't think the fall would kill me. Maybe it would, that would be better than this. _

"Dean, you ok?" Sam said.

Dean nodded without speaking. _If I don't open my mouth maybe that coffee will stay down. I don't feel all that good, probably the hangover and the coffee. I wonder how hard my heart is going to pound before this ends? We're going to die. I can't breathe, getting dizzy. Oh, this is not fun. What was that? Did we just hit a tree, I swear we hit a tree. Oh, god we're going to die out here in the middle of the snowy wildness. _He tried to calm his breathing, he knew he was starting to hyperventilate. He closed his eyes, swallowing. A hand closed over his arm.

"It won't be long, Dean, just hum, remember?" Sam said gently. "I thought it would be easier if I didn't tell you, that way you wouldn't panic until he got there."

"Thanks, Sammy," he said trying to smile at his brother. "I'm ok, this isn't bad at all." _Compared to having my leg gnawed off by rabid mice over several days, not bad at all. Oh, I think the wind is coming up. That coffee is making me sick to my stomach. I will not vomit, I will not vomit, I will not vomit, I will not…_He swallowed hard. _Not screaming, Sam, see how calm I am? Oh, god the ground is getting closer, we're going to crash. _His breathing got even faster, he was starting to see spots in front of his eyes._We're going to crash, we're going to crash! _The helicopter settled gently to the ground. He grinned at Sam. "Don't know why you were worried, see, not bad at all."

Sam looked at him with his eyebrows up. "Right, Dean, I don't know why I get worked up that way."

"Call me when you are ready to come back, there's a radio in the shack, all set for you, don't mess with it and you'll be fine," Bill said.

"Thanks," Sam slid out the door.

Dean followed, his knees were a little weak when his feet his solid ground. He stumbled. Sam had a hand under his elbow just long enough to steady him, and then pulled it away. "Thanks, Sammy," he said. They stepped away and the copter lifted off.

They headed across the snow toward the tiny cabin. The small building was standing in a circle of fir trees, branches weighted down with snow. The breeze took the snow off the trees in small puffs of smoke, curling around the cabin, swirling through the air in sparkling whirlwinds.

Dean opened the door, a single cot stood against the wall farthest from the door. There was a small fireplace. Wood was stacked against one wall. There were cupboards on their right and just to the left of the door, a small table with two rather rickety wooden chairs just to the right as they went it. Dean tossed his pack on the table. "Nice, Sam, really luxurious." _Man, I'm still a little sick from that flight. I need to get over that some day. Dizziness is never fun._

"We won't be here long Dean." Sam pulled a map out of his pack. "Charlie said three of the attacks were here," he indicated a spot about a mile from the cabin. "Let's head out that way, and see what there is to see."

"Did your research turn anything up?" Dean said. _See Sam, I paid attention to what you were doing last night before that waitress showed up. _

"Not really, I think it might be a skinwalker, or maybe a were-creature. Charlie thought that's what it might be too, although wendigo does come to mind."

"Were-creature sounds fun, not a wolf?"

"Charlie said it seemed too big to be that, maybe a werebear. They have been seen in this part of the country. Moon phase is right, too"

"Silver bullets, rock salt, regular bullets, knife," Dean was pulling items out of the weapons bag. "You think I'll need a machete?"

"Sometimes I think you enjoy all this too much, Dean," Sam said rolling his eyes.

"Killing evil things Sammy, it's what it's all about," he said giving the machete a little practice swing. The room suddenly did a flip-flop. He stopped, blinking suddenly blurry eyes, trying to bring the room back into focus.

"You ok?" Sam said, concern on his face.

"Just hungover," he said with a smile. _That was strange, never had that happen with a hangover before, but never had a hangover and a copter ride on the same day. _He blinked again, trying to clear his blurry vision. _Oh, this is getting fun._

"You sure?"

"Yeah, fine. Let's go, it looks like it might snow or something, it's getting cloudy," he said, walking out the door. "A mile you say?"

"Yeah, there's a clearing up there, Charlie said it was a popular stopping place on the trail," Sam said, catching up with him.

They walked through the snow. Gray clouds were beginning to catch on the mountain peak that towered over the valley they were walking through. The air smelled fresh. Dean was a little out of breath. _Must be the altitude. _He kept up a steady pace, matching his brother's long strides as they headed towards the clearing. He could see it now, a break in the trees, part of the mountain protruded over the clearing creating an area of very little snow. Dean blinked as everything went out of focus, his footsteps faltered.

"Dean?" Sam stopped and looked at him, frowning.

"I'm ok, Sammy," he said, starting out again. He stepped off the snow onto gravel under the outcropping, he took a breath to steady his pounding heart and to calm the dizziness spinning around him like a small tornado. Without warning his legs went out from under him. He hit the ground hard.

"Dean!" his brother dropped to his knees beside him, Sam pulled him into a sitting position, one hand on his back, holding him up.

Dean blinked, trying to focus on Sam, _Well, actually trying to decide which of three Sammys I should focus on._"What happened?"

"You collapsed," Sam said, worry very apparent in his voice.

"No I didn't, I tripped," he said, deciding to focus on the middle Sam.

"No, Dean, you just dropped, what's wrong?" Sam said, putting a hand on his forehead. Dean batted it away. The movement made him dizzier and he grabbed at Sam's hand to steady himself. Sam picked up his wrist, counting the pulse against his watch. "Fast, too fast, I think, Dean. What's wrong?" he repeated.

"Nothing, Sam, I'm fine," he pushed himself up, and promptly dropped back down. "I might be a little dizzy, stupid hangover."

"This doesn't seem like a hangover, Dean. You've had a few, does this feel like one?"

"Not really," he said swallowing the nausea that had suddenly formed as his three brothers wavered in front of his eyes. "Huh."

"What?" Sam said, Dean heard the "staying calm, Dean, not panicking but you know you're missing an arm" voice.

"My hands are a little tingly, too," he said, blinking at Sam, his vision was no longer coming back into focus after each blink.

"Let's go back to the cabin and call Bill to come get us, we need to get you checked out," Sam said, pulling Dean to his feet.

Dean took a breath to protest, but settled for grabbing onto Sam as the whole world tilted. "Good idea, Sam." He leaned against Sam, waiting for the earth to spin back on the right axis. Sam patiently put an arm over his shoulders, steadying him. "Thanks," he swallowed again, blinking. "You're all fuzzy, Sammy."

"Let's go Dean," Sam said, picking up Dean's shotgun. He put an arm around Dean's waist and steered him towards the trail.

The wind had started coming up, tiny particles of ice were hitting Dean's face like small needles, the wind taking his breath away. _This just gets better and better. My vision is blurry, hands tingly, legs not working. What the hell happened? _

"You ok?" Sam said quietly.

"Sure, Sam, great," he said. His voice sounded thick to him, not quite on-key. His brother looked over at him, concern etching his face with lines of worry. "I'm ok." He realized he was leaning heavily on Sam as they walked. "Why do you suppose the trail leads straight into the wind?"

"They always do, Dean. Like how dad always had to walk to school in the driving snow, uphill both ways," he said with a little laugh.

"Yeah, he was always a bit dramatic about that," Dean said, trying to focus, trying to keep his now achingly heavy legs moving. He heard something, something that sounded like a "whumph" of air pushed out of the lungs of a large animal. He turned his blurry eyes to find the sound, and saw a large mound of snow moving towards them. "What's that?"

Sam looked over, he swung the shotgun up and fired, the mound of snow slowed for an instant and then came at them again. Sam fired again. Still it came. Dean could see it a little better, he had the impression of a large beast, teeth bared, baring down on them. Sam had dropped the double-barreled gun and grabbed the other, firing several shots in succession. The animal stopped briefly, scenting the air and then moved again, this time coming fast, very fast. It hit them hard, knocking Sam off his feet and taking a swipe at Dean. It connected with Dean's upper back and neck, the claws tearing flesh away. Before Sam could get up and fire off another shot the thing had Dean, and was dragging through the snow.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled. _Thank god, you're not dead, Sammy. _

Dean tried to struggle free, it had his arm in its mouth. He could smell his own blood over the fetid breath of the animal. _Ok, I may not know as much as Sam, but I know polar bears don't belong here, and this is definitely a polar bear. They look cuter on Coke commercials. This isn't fun. I wonder if my arm is broken or just bleeding? _He was dizzy, trying to focus his mind, trying to focus his blurry eyes. _I need to get out of here so I can get back to Sam. I wonder why it grabbed me? It stopped and scented the air and then came right for me. Does it have something to do with why I am sick? I wonder if I can reach…?_

He managed to get his free arm up and got his hand around the gun in the holster under his arm. He pulled it out, took a steadying breath and fired the gun directly into the bear. It dropped him and turned, growling, furious. It swiped at him, he felt the claws connect, but fired again and again, emptying the clip. Finally the bear turned, limping and ran into the trees. _So which way back to the cabin? How far did it drag me? Sam? Where are you?_ He forced himself up onto weak legs, the world was spinning, the world was blurry.He turned his face into the wind and tried to force his way back to the trail.

Dean walked on, through the snow covering the ground, fighting the wind full of the stinging ice crystals. One step after another. The wounds on his back, on his arm, on his head were bleeding, he could feel the warmth of the blood flowing down his body and then cooling into rivers of ice. _I wonder how bad it is? I don't hurt all that much, so it is either not bad at all, or serious. _He stumbled a little on a large branch he hadn't seen, jarring his wounded body. _I'm thinking pretty serious._He was dizzy, sleepy. _Can't go to sleep, sleeping out in the snow is a great way to die. You get sleepy, feel warm and then fall asleep. Just lay down and die, not a good idea._

_What was that bear doing here? Why did it grab me and not Sam? You'd think it would go for the guy shooting at it. I'm glad it didn't, but it seems odd. Sam? Where are you?_ He felt warm, fighting the wave of sleepiness, he forced himself onward. _What is wrong with me, if I didn't know better I'd say I'd been poisoned, but how? Someone at the bar? I wonder how far it is back to the cabin? Stay awake, Dean, come on. You have to keep going. Sam? Are you out there? How long have I been walking?_ The world was rapidly becoming patches of shadow and light, twilight seemed to be fast approaching._ I think the sun is already going down._ He tried to focus on his watch, he blinked his blurry eyes, trying to make the dial out. Then cold, horrifying reality hit him hard. _Oh, god, no. _He forced himself on, keeping his face in the wind, hoping it would lead him back. _Sun's not going down at all, is it? _He kept walking.

Suddenly there was snow on his face. The ground was hard under his chest, his body pinning the wounded arm under him. He pushed himself over, looking up at the rapidly darkening world around him. His blood was flowing warm into the snow, steaming a little, before cooling in bright pools of crimson around him. The wave of sleep reached up and pulled him down into comfortable warmth. He closed his eyes.

_Sam? Where are you? Can you see me? _

_Sam, I'm sleepy. _

_Sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry._

_**To Be Continued**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Behind the Wall of Sleep**

**Chapter Two**

_Chill and numbs from head to toe  
Icy sun with frosty glow_

It was cold, the wind slicing into open wounds like the claws of the bear. There was something feather-soft gently falling on his face. The tiny puffs of cold melted and ran down his cheeks like tears. Dean wiped the snowflakes away with an icy hand. He felt oddly warm, sleepy, the ground unyielding and yet soft beneath his injured body. _Hmm, might be a little delirious. _Tremors were moving through his body. _I shouldn't feel warm, I think I am in bad shape, what happened? _The memory of the bear dragging him through the snow slid obediently into his awareness. _Right, polar bear. Where am I? If I stay here I'm dead. _

He tried to sit up, and dropped back down, the fall jarring the wounds on his back. _That's not going to work. _He managed to turn over and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He shifted around, trying to get his bearings. The snow was silencing the world around him, the flakes taking away any sound except the soft hiss as they fell onto the frozen ground. He could feel the wind blowing on his face. _Head into the wind, that's the way we were going. Into the wind. As long as I can feel it, I can't get lost. _The snow was hitting him hard now that he was trying to move into the wind, driving tiny particles of ice into his face like little nails. _Might as well close my eyes. Oh, god._ He forced himself on. _Sam? You out there somewhere?_

The storm was getting worse. He could hear the wind picking up. He kept going forwards. He ran into something hard. Reaching out a hand he felt his way around the tree trunk and then kept moving. _All we need is a storm. I wonder if the polar bear is dead? I dumped the whole clip into it. Where did it come from anyway? Sam will know. Uh, Sammy? Might need to find me soon_

_How far is it to the cabin? How far can I go before I collapse? _He stumbled a little, coordination getting harder and harder. _I'm in trouble. Sam? _The dizziness was getting worse and his hands were tingling almost continually, like pins and needles, but never ending. He was shivering violently, the tremors making it hard to keep moving. _I wonder if that's from the cold or the other? Pretty sure I was poisoned, but how? _

He stumbled again, going down hard on his left shoulder. He got his hand back under him and forced himself forwards. _I feel weird. Hypothermia? How bad? The warm sensation could be bad. _He stopped, picked his right hand up and tried to touch his thumb to his little finger, on the third attempt he gave up. _That's bad, I'm moving into stage two hypothermia. If Sam doesn't find me soon I'm dead. _

He kept moving, knowing he was stumbling, feeling each forward movement getting slower and slower. He put his hand down and the ground dropped out from under him. He was falling, dropping endlessly down until he landed against something hard and all sensation, warm, cold, pain, was gone.

**XXX**

**Earlier**

The wind was blowing and it had started to snow, tiny flakes twisting on the wind. It was also getting colder, the wind cutting into Sam's hands, into his face. Where Dean was leaning against him it was warm, but the fact that his brother was leaning against him, allowing Sam to help him along, was not comforting. _In fact I might be a little freaked. Seeing him collapse like that, then the disorientation, the dizziness. It's not a hangover, Dean, something is seriously wrong. But what? Whatever it was seemed to get worse the closer we got to here, can that have something to do with it?_

Dean stumbled, his weight dragging Sam down a little. He paused for a minute, hitching his brother back up and then kept moving. _I need to get him back, get Bill back here and get us out._ He was watching the storm clouds gathering over the mountain. Massing like great gray birds waiting to swoop down on them. _Nice image. Yeah, I might be little freaked to come up with that. I don't think I'll mention it to Dean. _He looked down at his brother. Dean looked bad. Sam wasn't sure what he saw there, but he could tell something was seriously wrong.

"What's that?" Dean said suddenly.

Sam glanced in the direction Dean was looking. _What the hell? _Sam reacted instinctively, bringing the gun up to fire at the charging bear. It slowed with the first shot and then came again, faster than before. He emptied both barrels and dropped the gun, grabbing the other and emptying it as well. Still the bear kept coming. It stopped briefly, scenting the air, then came on again, hitting them with its body and swiping at Dean. Sam saw the claws connect, tearing a bloody swathe out of his brother. The bear grabbed Dean's arm in its mouth and took off.

"DEAN!" he forced himself up and started running after the bear, knowing he couldn't catch it, but following nonetheless. _Ok, bears can run at more than twenty-five miles an hour, it's moving away from me how fast? Let see, at top speed I can run, hmm I wonder how fast I can run and then how fast is it moving away from me? Am I doing story problems?_"Dean," he shouted again. "I'm coming!"

_It came straight for Dean. It should have come for me shouldn't it? I was the one shooting at it. But it went for Dean, why? I wonder if it has something to do with what was wrong with him. Dean? I'm coming, hang on, don't do anything stupid, ok?_

He was following the drag marks through the snow, the passage of Dean's body as the bear pulled him away. He'd slowed to a fast walk, trying to keep an eye on the track, watching for the bear to return. Once or twice the track disappeared, narrowing down to nothing more than the smear of blood. _No footprints. None at all, just Dean's blood and the track of his body. What's a polar bear doing here? Obviously not a polar bear, an actual bear would have left tracks. Oh, god, that's a lot of blood. Dean, hang on. _The long smear of blood continued through the snow ahead of him.

Sam stopped when he heard gunshots. He counted. _That's the whole clip. Didn't I just say something about not doing anything stupid? _He heard the bear roaring and something large moving down through the trees to his left. Sam turned in the direction of the shots and started running again. The ground sloped up from where he was, he forced himself up, the cold wind burning his lungs. _How long ago was that? How far away was he? _The snow was pulling at his feet, slowing him down, he forged on.

He'd been running for an eternity when he saw something ahead of him. _No._ He ran towards the huge patch of red in the snow. "Dean!" His brother wasn't there. Sam started following the trail of blood that led away from where his brother had obviously fallen. _He's crawling, he can't be far ahead of me, he can't. Dean? You idiot, did you forget the when-you're-lost-stay-put rule? How many times did dad beat that into our heads when we were kids? Stay put, that way someone can find you, if you're moving it's harder. _

The ground dropped away in front of him, Dean's trail led right to the edge. "Dean!" he shouted at the still form lying at the bottom of the small cliff._How can I get down there? _He looked around, to his left there was a slope, steep, but a slope as opposed to an actual cliff. He plunged down, tumbling head over heels at one point. _That was smart, I should listen to that not doing anything stupid advice. _He pulled himself up and ran towards his brother.

_Oh god, Dean. _His brother's back was a mass of white and red stripes, the jacket torn away, the wounds sending small rivulets of crimson down Dean's back. There was a huge slash on Dean's neck, running from the back to the front. _Oh, god, that looks bad. _He turned him over. His brother's lips were blue, standing out against his pale skin. "Dean?" he said, shaking Dean's shoulder a little. He was quickly scanning the total extent of the damage the bear had done._Not good. He's freezing, but it probably saved his life, looking at these wounds, the cold slowed the blood loss. Great, so when he gets warm…One bridge at a time Sam. _"Dean? Come on, man."

Dean's eyes fluttered open, they didn't focus on Sam, but they were open. "Sam?"

"Hey, Dean," Sam was running his hands quickly over Dean's arms and legs checking for broken bones. He did the bloody wrist last. _Nothing broken, thank god. _"Think you can get up?" he said, keeping his voice light.

"Yeah, I think so, help me up," Dean held out the uninjured hand, Sam pulled him carefully to his feet, catching him as his knees buckled. "How far back to the cabin?"

"Not far, you cunningly found a short cut," Sam said, getting an arm around Dean. His brother was shivering violently.

"That's me, cunning. Falling off a cliff is always cunning." Dean said with a smirk. His speech was slurred, almost like he was a little drunk. Sam got them moving, more than half carrying Dean as they headed back towards the cabin.

"Still with me, Dean?" he said when he felt Dean slump a little, when he noticed Dean's stumbling gait become even less coordinated. _If I don't get him back soon he's dead. The cold will kill him before the wounds. _

"Yep," Dean said. "Where're we going?"

"What? Back to the cabin." _Confusion, not good, not good. _

"Oh, right, how did you find me in the dark?" Dean asked, sounding confused.

"I followed your trail," Sam said.

Dean stumbled again, Sam wrenched him upright and kept moving on. His brother was getting heavier and heavier as his body started really succumbing to the cold. _And whatever was affecting him earlier. _"Still there?" he said, glancing at Dean. His brother had his head down.

"Yeah, sure," the words flowing together.

"Stay with me, it's only a little further, I can see the cabin now," Sam said, unconsciously increasing his pace. It was further than he thought, the storm slowing him down to a snail's pace. It took another ten minutes to get there, by then he was dragging his brother forwards with each step. Dean was muttering answers to Sam's continued "still there?", but it was more a sound than a word. Sam opened the door and carried Dean over to the bed, set him down and then turned to close the door.

He grabbed a towel from the cupboards by the door. "We have to get you dried off, Dean, and into something warm, ok?" Now that he was in the cabin and able to get a good look at his brother, he was starting to panic. "Dean, can you touch your thumb to your little finger?"

"What?" Dean glanced at him with the unfocused eyes. "No, tried that awhile ago." He tried again, Sam watched as his fingers refused to do his bidding. "I'm in bad shape, Sammy."

"Not that bad, Dean," Sam said. _Do I get him dry or call for help first? Dry, fire, call for help, take care of wounds, at least the cold kept him from bleeding to death. _He got his brother into dry clothes and wrapped the old quilt from the bed around him. Dean was shivering violently, the tremors shaking the bed. Sam headed to the fireplace, there was a fire already laid. _Thank you to whoever did that. _He lit the tinder and coaxed it into a blaze before turning the radio on to warm up. He followed the directions and a couple of minutes later Charlie came on the line.

"I need the helicopter back up here, Dean's hurt."

"Sorry, Sam, but we can't get the bird up in this storm," Charlie's rough voice sounded odd.

"It's not that bad, yet, is it?" Sam said, hearing the panic in his voice. "Dean's in bad shape, the creature attacked us." He glanced over at the bed, Dean was curled up in the fetal position, shivering. Sam could hear his teeth clattering together.

"Did it? Hmm, and he's still alive?"

"Yeah, it dropped him in the snow, he's freezing, I think that saved his life," Sam said. _Come on, Charlie, just send the damn helicopter._ "But he needs medical attention. The storm isn't that bad…" _Because as soon as he's warm he's going to start bleeding, assuming I can get him warm._

"It is down here, Sam, sorry. We'll get to you as soon as we can, but it looks like at least twenty-four hours, maybe more, this looks like a bad one."

"But Dean…"

"Do the best you can, Sam. John taught you boys well, I'm sure you can handle it. Check in and let me know how he's doing," Charlie said.

"Yeah," Sam said, flipping the radio off. He went to the weapon's bag and dragged out their father's very well-used first-aid book._Hypothermia: Treatment: Blankets are not sufficient to treat hypothermia. They help retain body heat, but do not create it. Moderate and severe cases of hypothermia require immediate evacuation and treatment in a hospital. _Sam snorted. "Yeah, not happening," he said aloud. _Re-warming should occur with attention made to the trunk to minimize the potential for after drop, using warm water bottles or heat packs applied to the neck, armpits, groin and the abdomen. If these are not available, one can consider using skin–to–skin contact, but caution should be taken not to place the rescuer at risk for hypothermia. If the victim is awake, warm, sweet fluids may be given slowly_.

Sam checked to make sure there was water in the cast-iron kettle sitting in the fireplace and shoved it further into the flames to warm. He quickly dug around the cabinets and found a couple of small cast-iron skillets and shoved those in the fire as well. The water in the kettle was already steaming. He found several cups and added the water and some honey he found sugaring in one of the cabinets and stirred it in. Sam picked up the mugs in one hand and the two skillets and a towel in the other and sat on the bed next to Dean.

"You still with me?" he said.

"Sm? Whr'm I?"

"At the cabin, Dean, we need to get you a little warmer, what do you think?" he kept his voice light, trying to keep calm for Dean. _He's in bad shape. _

"K." Dean said.

Sam pulled his brother up and eased the blanket away from him. He slid under the blanket, holding Dean propped against him. He put the towel-wrapped skillets on Dean's chest, holding them in place with one hand and carefully wrapping the blanket around both of them. _God he's cold. I have to be careful, warm him too fast and he dies, of course there are those wounds, and whatever was going on before. _"Dean, drink this," he held the cup to Dean's mouth and tipped some of the honey water in.

"Sweet," his brother said.

"Yeah, keep drinking if you can, ok?" It was hard to keep the cup still enough for Dean to drink with the shivers wracking his body. _Please don't let me kill him with this. _Dean obediently sipped the warm liquid, leaning against Sam, shivering. Sam managed to get all the warm liquid into his brother, Dean was still shivering. _But he seems to feel a little warmer._ The skillets had grown cold. _Do I re-warm them? Or stay here? If I stick them in the fire again maybe I can get a look at those wounds. _"I'm getting up, ok?"

"Going?"

"Just to warm the skillets up again, ok?" he got up and shoved the skillets back in the fire. He grabbed the first-aid kit and dug through it till he found the sutures. "I'm going to look at those cuts, Dean, see if I can stitch the bad ones while you're numb, how's that sound?"

"Sure," Dean said, Sam could hear confusion in his brother's voice. _I'm worried about that, I don't think it's just from the cold. _

"What happened with the bear?" he said, trying to distract Dean as he started on the deep gash.

"Bear?" Dean still sounded confused.

"The polar bear?"

"Oh, right, bear. I shot it, emptied the clip into its chest, I think. It dropped me and ran. They're cuter on TV, Sam."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, they are. Bigger in real life," he finished the last stitch. "All done." He carefully bandaged the area, fed the fire and grabbed the skillets and another couple of mugs of the honey water. _Hopefully that delay didn't kill him, but I had to take care of those wounds before he bled out._ He wrapped them both up in the blanket and started giving Dean the warm liquid again. The shivering was beginning to lessen when Sam pulled the cool skillets away. He wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled his brother tight against him.

"Hugging, Sam?" his brother's voice sounded ironic, confused, disoriented.

"Warming, Dean. You're hypothermic, remember?"

"Sure, Sammy," Dean said, he was quiet for a minute. "Do you think it's safe if I go to sleep for a minute or two?"

Sam put his hand on Dean's stomach, it was still cool, but not cold. "Can you do the thumb thing?" Dean sat up a little and pulled a hand out from under the blanket and haltingly managed to touch his thumb to his little finger. "I think it's ok, Dean, you don't seem too cold now, you're shivering less, too."

"Good, sleepy," Dean let his head drop heavily against Sam's shoulder. "Thanks, Sammy." He was asleep, his breathing even, the shivering diminished to tiny tremors, within a minute.

Sam leaned his head against the wall, listening to his brother's breathing. It sounded a little off to Sam's ears and his heart was pounding under Sam's hands. _Hypothermia? Or something else? What's going on? He was in bad shape before the bear grabbed him. Something else then, poison? But how? When? At the bar last night? And what is it? He seemed dizzy, losing coordination. Drugged or poisoned? That could be an important question. _Dean shifted, Sam waited until he was settled again before making sure the blanket was tight around them._He's going to give me hell for this later. _Dean moved again, restless, in pain, perhaps. Sam put a stilling hand on his brother's forehead, holding him as a tremor tore through Dean's body making him cry out in pain, his body tensing, fighting, then relaxing against Sam again.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Don't feel very good," he said, the words thick. Sam heard pain behind them.

"Can you sleep more? It's probably just a reaction to the cold and those wounds."_God, I hope that's it. I don't think it is, I think it is something else. We need to get out of here, before whatever it is gets worse, before those wounds get infected._

"Yeah, thanks Sam." Dean shifted a little, getting comfortable. He relaxed a little more against Sam. _He's asleep again, good. _Sam tightened his arms a little. _I have a bad feeling about this, I hope I'm wrong but I have a bad feeling about this. _Sam closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep as well.

"Sam?" Dean's voice drew him from his sleep.

"Dean?" he was instantly awake, something about his brother's voice worried him.

"Nothing," Dean said. Sam felt him relax. _What was that about? _"What time is it Sam, do you know?"

"Hang on," Sam glanced at his watch, the dial glowing faintly in the dark room. "Wow, later than I thought, about 10 p.m." Sam said. "How do you feel?"

Dean took a deep breath. _Oh, yeah, Dean, going to try and lie to me and say ok? Don't even try it. _"Not good, Sammy."

"Dean?" Sam stopped, he heard something.

"What?"

"Wait," Sam said, listening. Something had rubbed against the outside wall of the cabin. It was dark in the cabin except for the glow from the embers. "I need to get up, Dean," he said softly, knowing Dean would understand. Dean nodded.

Sam slipped across the cabin and threw a couple of logs on the fire, the flames blazing up the fireplace. He grabbed the shotgun and some shells. He didn't know what was out there, but something was. He loaded the gun while he listened, chiding himself for not taking care of that detail when they had first come back _Unloaded weapon is no good, Sammy. _His father's voice, full of annoyance, played in his head.

He glanced over at Dean, lying limp on the bed. His brother's eyes were open, unfocused. _He's listening too. He doesn't look good. I need to get him out of here. _There was the sound of something at the door, a snuffling breath. Sam saw the edges of dark claws and white fur under the edge of the door. _The bear? How? _It was pushing at the door now, Sam lifted the gun, his heart pounding.

"Sammy? What is it?" Dean said quietly.

"I think the bear is back, Dean."

"How? I shot it so full of lead it shouldn't be able to walk for the weight."

"Ha ha, Dean," Sam said, looking over at his brother.

The door was starting to give, the edges bulging as the weight of the bear was thrust against it. "Stay down, Dean," he said as he saw his brother trying to struggle into a sitting position.

"Give me a gun, Sam."

"No time, Dean," Sam said, aiming at the middle of the door. The blows were hammering through the small cabin. He saw one clawed paw break through the door. "Stay down," he shouted to his brother as the door gave way. The bear plowed through the door and into the room, Sam fired the gun twice before it got to him. He heard his brother shout as he hit the ground, the weight of the bear nearly driving him into the fire. He thought he heard Dean scream before his head connected with the stones of the fireplace and everything went dim.

"SAM!" his brother's voice, terrified, in pain.

"Dean!"

Sam tried to struggle up, his hand reaching around for the gun. The bear turned on him again, striking out. His head connected with the flagstones, he thought he heard it roar, thought he heard the gun go off, then everything went black.

_**To Be Continued**_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving one and all! I would like to give and extra special thank you to all of you for reading and reviewing! And thank you, as always, to my beta Abni, for care and late nights getting this story ready!**  
**

**Behind the Walls of Sleep**

**Chapter Three**

_Deadly petals with strange power…  
Turns your body to a corpse_

It was dark, black, silent for an instant, then sensation came rushing back. The floor was hard underneath him, pain was throbbing in his head, an animal was roaring, and his brother was screaming. The last brought him to full awareness, he forced his eyes open and his body into movement in one motion.

He quickly took in the terrifying scene in front of him. The polar bear, face bloodied by a wild shot, had Dean by his leg, dragging him through the broken door. Dean's body was caught on the shattered wood, the bear was tugging on him, with each pull his brother cried out in pain. Sam dove for the gun lying by the bed, he picked it up and, taking a careful breath to steady his shaking hands, fired a shot directly at the bear's head. The salt and buckshot tore away a large portion of flesh, the bear roared, a strange, nearly human sound. Sam fired again, the bear let go of Dean and disappeared into the blowing snow.

"Dean!" Sam ran to where his brother was caught in the broken door. Dean was unconscious, limp against the broken boards. Sam pulled him off the jagged wood and carried him back to the bed. _Oh, god. _Dean's left leg was a mess of blood and torn flesh. Sam grabbed some rags and put them under the leg. He pulled the ripped jeans away and tried to get a good look at the damage. _Not good, not good and he's starting to get cold again. _He bandaged the leg as well as he could, knowing it was just a stop-gap measure, he had to stop the wind and snow that were howling into the small cabin before he could do anything else.

Rummaging through the cupboards, Sam found a box of plastic garbage bags and a roll of duct tape. He quickly sealed the door as best he could. _Not very good for keeping out bears, but wood doesn't seem to work all that well for that either. _He tossed the tape and the empty box on the table.

Walking over to the bed, he checked on Dean, his brother was still unconscious. Sam pulled the makeshift bandage off of Dean's leg. It was still bleeding heavily, but the wound was too big to stitch easily. Sam wrapped another bandage around it, then secured it, tightly, with an elastic bandage. Easing Dean up, he cleaned the splinters out of Dean's back before pulling a clean t-shirt and sweatshirt onto his brother. Once he was finished he grabbed the skillets and shoved them back in the fire to warm.

"Sam?" Dean groaned. "Sam?" His brother's eyes were open, unfocused, Sam could see panic there, full blown. "Sammy?" The panic was also in Dean's voice, fear, even terror coloring the word.

"Dean, it's ok," Sam said. He poured a little more water into the kettle and put that in the fire as well. "Let me get you warm again, can't have you going into shock." Sam said, trying to keep his voice even, calming. His brother sounded frightened and it scared the hell out of Sam. _Why are you frightened, Dean? What is it? I know it's not the wounds, not the cold. What is it? It take so much to scare you, it's freaking me out. That fear in your voice, Dean…What's causing it?_

"You ok, Sammy?"

"Sure, just got a little knock on the head, nothing major."

"Sam?" Dean said, his voice a little less panicked, but still full of fear.

"Yeah, Dean?" he said, picking up the skillets and a couple mugs of warm sweet liquid.

"Do I still have a leg?"

"What?"

"My leg, is it still there?"

"Dean?" Sam looked at him. _Oh my god, he's serious. _"Yes, Dean, god yes."

"Good," Dean blinked, swallowing. "Think I'm getting cold again," he said, confusion in his voice.

Sam slid behind Dean again, propping him up against his shoulder before placing the towel-wrapped skillets back on his brother and wrapping the blanket around them. "I have a pain pill, can you swallow it?" Sam said, worried that Dean's violent shivers might make swallowing difficult. Dean nodded. Sam gave him the pill, noticing how uncoordinated his brother's movements were. _He should be in a lot more pain. I wonder if that's because of what was wrong before, the drug? Or is he going into shock? And he's getting cold, and those bags don't keep the wind out all that well. _Dean leaned against him, sighing a little, one cold hand wrapped around Sam's where Sam was holding the mug of warm water.

"Cold in here," Dean said.

"Yeah, the bags aren't really keeping the wind out," Sam said. "Sorry about that."

"Bags?" his brother said, sounding confused.

"The garbage bags I taped over the hole in the door?"

"Yeah, right," Dean said sounding anything but sure. "Too bad we don't have a Tauntaun."

"What?" Sam said, a smile tugging at his face. _Did he just make a…_

"You know, like in Empire Strikes Back? Han saves Luke in the snow?" Dean said drowsily.

_He did, he did just make a Star Wars reference. _"And you call me a geek?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Nice to know that animal intestines are better than a quilt, I'll remember that next time."

"Saves all the hugging," Dean said with a shaky laugh. His hand loosened where it was holding the cup.

"You never told me about the hunt with Charlie," Sam said, suddenly sure that letting his brother sleep right then would be a fatal mistake.

"Wha…?"

"Dean," Sam shook him a little. "Stay awake. Tell me about the hunt with Charlie."

"The hunt with Charlie?" Dean said, lax against Sam.

"When he was hurt? That was what, about six months before you came to get me at school wasn't it?" Sam said, remembering his brother's brief mention of the hunt one sleepless night shortly after they were back together and still carefully finding their way with each other again.

"Yeah. He called dad after people started disappearing. The bodies were piling up, I think it was more than a dozen before we got there. Dad and I went up to meet him. I remember when we got there, he was all amped up to start the hunt right then, but dad slowed him down. 'We have to know more about it, Charlie' he said. You could tell Charlie was disappointed, but when dad was in that drill sergeant mode nothing could stop him."

"Too true," Sam murmured softly, then hoped Dean hadn't heard.

His brother snorted, "Yeah, Sammy. So the day after we get there the three of us head out into the woods. Someone had seen something outside of town and Charlie and dad thought it might be what we were looking for when we…" he trailed off.

"Dean?" Sam shook him, "What were you looking for?"

"Huh? Oh, right, sorry," Dean sat up a little, blinking his eyes. Sam could see them, bright in the soft light of the fire. "A demon of some kind is what dad thought, Charlie thought it was a spirit, they argued about it once or twice, neither one of them was all that good at not arguing." He stopped, Sam could sense he was looking back through the years at what had happened.

"What did you think?" Sam said, trying to pull him back. He could tell Dean was starting to fade and he was desperately trying to keep him there.

"Me?" He turned his eyes towards Sam, something there made Sam panic for just an instant and then brush it off. "I didn't care as long as I could kill it, Sammy, you know me," he smiled a little. "We'd been out a day I think when the thing came at us, they were both wrong, turned out to be some kind of creature, like a skinwalker, not a skinwalker, thank god, but like it. It caught us by surprise. Dad and Charlie were both injured in that first pass, I wasn't. I'd been up ahead of them checking on something I'd seen…" he trailed off again. "Something I'd seen." He stopped, his head dropping down against Sam again.

"Dean, come on, you can't leave me hanging like that." Sam checked the skillets, they were still a little warm, but Dean was shivering violently. "Keep going, I'm going to get some more warm water and heat the skillets again."

"Don't have to reheat intestines, Sam," Dean said blearily.

"Funny, Dean," Sam said, getting up and putting the skillets back in the fire.

"Maybe I'll get a fever, then I'll be warm," Dean said, turning his head towards Sam.

"Not funny, Dean and don't even say…"

"It's a little funny."

"Shut up," Sam said, trying to laugh, the idea of fever, of infection in those wounds chilling him. _I have to get him out of here, I have to figure a way out. _

"Sam? I think, uh…" he paused, closing his eyes. "I feel weird."

_That wasn't what you started to say Dean, what? _"Weird how? From the cold?" He picked up the skillets and headed back to his brother, Dean let him get settled before he answered.

"No, felt weird before, when we were on our way back, before the bear got me. What's a polar bear doing here?" Dean said, the confusion in his voice becoming more and more apparent.

"I don't know," Sam said. _That's kind of the million dollar question, isn't it? That and why does it keep grabbing you?_ "I'll see about research in the morning, not much light in here."

"Yeah, good idea," Dean sipped a little of the honey water. "This isn't bad, better if it had coffee in it."

"I don't think you need coffee right now, Dean. What did you see?"

"See?" Dean said.

"When you were with dad and Charlie?"

"Right. I'd seen something up on the trail, it looked like a drag mark, something had torn the hell out of the pathway. I was up there when I heard dad and Charlie shouting. I ran back towards them and managed to get a shot off…"

"Then what, Dean?" Sam said, shaking him again.

"What? Oh," Dean sat up a little, forcing his eyes open. "The thing turned and ran that time. Dad was ok, just a little banged up, Charlie was not so good. His left leg had been thoroughly mangled by the thing. It was hanging by a thread, we picked him up and started out of there. He was in bad shape, getting worse. Neither dad nor I realized the thing had poisoned him. If we had, we might have been able to stop…" His eyes closed again, Sam looked at his brother, something was wrong.

"Dean? Stop what?" he said gently. _What's wrong? Is it the cold? Shock?_

"The thing was venomous, by the time we got him back and to the hospital it was too late. His sight was gone. That's how it hunts, blinds the prey then it can take its own sweet time hunting you…" he trailed off again, his head dropping against Sam's shoulder again. "I'm sleepy, Sam," he said, the words starting to slur together.

"I don't think you should sleep until you're warmer, Dean," Sam said, looking at his brother. Dean was pale, his lips still tinged with blue. The cabin was not all that warm. "I'm going to move the bed closer to the fire now." He got up and dragged the bed as close as he could get it to the fireplace.

"Why didn't you do that sooner?" Dean said, the words still thick and slurred, but a little snarky too.

"I thought that warming you up too quickly and having your heart explode was a bad idea," Sam said, sitting back in the bed.

"Yeah, that might have sucked a bit," Dean said with a snort. "Now that I'm closer to the fire do I have to have the skillets on me? They're heavy and they make my chest hurt." If it hadn't been for the look of pain and misery on Dean's face Sam would have laughed at the whiny tone that made his brother sound like he was five. Instead he took it as a symptom of something much more serious.

"For a little longer, Dean. You can finish telling me about Charlie," he said as he wrapped them both in the blanket again.

"I'm next to the fire, Sam, do we have to do this? Can't you find some intestines somewhere?"

_I'm not sure the fire is enough to keep you from freezing to death tonight, Dean. Those garbage bags don't make that much difference. They actually do, but it is still freezing in here. _He used the one argument he knew he could win. _And it's fighting dirty but if he's worried about me… _"I'm cold, too, Dean, and when I asked Charlie about supplies for the cabin he said there were sleeping bags, but I guess he forgot someone had taken them or something."

"Oh, sorry, I just thought…" He sighed. "Dad and I went out hunting the next day, they'd had to amputate Charlie's leg the night before and he was still out of it. Dad was hoping if we killed the thing Charlie's vision might some back. It didn't, of course. We hung around for a week or two, helping him get settled before his brother came to take care of him. Dad blamed himself for it, I think. It was my fault, though, if I'd been down there maybe..." Dean was slowly relaxing, his body starting to give out.

"Dean, come on, stay awake," Sam said, desperate.

"I feel weird, Sammy," Dean said. "I can't…I…" His head dropped down, the cup he'd been holding clattering to the ground.

"Dean?" Sam shook his brother. "Dean?" Panic was making his heart pound. Sam put his hand on his brother's chest, holding his breath while he waited for the rise and fall as Dean took a breath. He could feel Dean's heart beating, fast, under his trembling hand. _Thank god. Probably just a reaction to the cold, to those wounds. You're lying to yourself, Sam. There was something wrong with Dean before the bear. Poisoned or drugged? It's one or the other. And whatever it is it's already messing with his pain response. Drug? Poison? But who? And that bear? Where did it come from? This whole hunt has been one piece of bad luck after another. The timing of it all. Dean drugged, the bear, hell even the snowstorm, although I still think it wasn't bad enough to ground a helicopter, but I'm not a pilot._

He sighed, listening to the night. The wind was howling around the cabin. _The storm is bad enough now, but not before. _He realized he was tense, waiting for the sound of the bear to return. _But I shot it full in the face, it shouldn't be able to come back. Actually it should be dead, so it might be back. But how? _Dean moaned, tremors wracking his body. _I have to get him out of here. _Something was worrying Sam, something that hadn't worked itself all the way into his conscious mind. He tried to concentrate, letting it rise up through the layers, but it wouldn't come. He was still trying to focus on the small voice as sleep claimed him.

The wind was still howling as Sam woke up. He was warm, caught in that moment between sleep and waking that was warm, soft and safe. He let himself stay there for a minute longer before dragging himself back to the harsh reality of the cold morning. He opened his eyes and looked around the dim cabin. Dean was still sleeping, curled into a ball, face towards the fire. Sam shifted a little, Dean moved, but didn't wake.

Carefully so as not to disturb Dean, he got up, stretched, then wandered over to the cupboards and started opening them, looking for something to eat._Charlie said it was fully provisioned and there really isn't much here, although, hey, instant coffee. Not great, but Dean might like it. _Sam looked out the window, the trees standing no more that fifteen feet from the cabin were hidden by the blizzard. He pushed the kettle back in the fire to heat water for coffee. Then he went back to rummaging through the cupboards. _Instant soup, Top Ramen, partially chewed by rodents, dried apples, raisins, honey, oatmeal. _Sam smiled, remembering Dean making them both oatmeal when they were kids, adding raisins and letting them cook in the water so they were plump when it was done. He stood by the cupboard caught in the memory, almost able to smell the cinnamon Dean always put on top.

"Sam?" A pause. "Sammy?" Sam glanced over at the tone of complete panic in his brother's voice. Dean had pushed himself up on one hand. "SAM!"

"Here, Dean, getting oatmeal for your breakfast," he said, hurrying back to the fire. "I found coffee too, instant, but better than just hot water." Sam tried to laugh.

"Not much better," Dean said, sounding sulky. Then he smiled, "It smells pretty good Sammy," he said, holding his hand out for the cup. "Doesn't even taste that bad."

Sam was watching Dean. His brother's hands were shaking so badly that he was holding the cup with both hands. His eyes still had the unfocused, confused look Sam had noticed the night before, his cheeks were red. _Fever. Great. _Sam got up and got the bottle of pain pills out of the first-aid kit. He brought them back over. "You need something for pain, Dean?" _Don't bother denying it. _

Dean held his hand out, Sam dropped a pill into it. "Thanks, Sam. Did you say something about oatmeal?"

"There are raisins too and a little cinnamon, but I think it is mostly a clump," Sam said, still looking as his brother. _Something's wrong. He still sounds confused, his words slurring a little. Poison then, not drugged. Oh god, what do I do?_

"Sam?" Dean turned his head away from the fire and back towards Sam.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"I think," he took a deep breath. "This might sound crazy, but I think I've been poisoned." He held the cup out in a trembling hand for more coffee.

"Yeah, Dean."

"Yeah I'm crazy?" Dean said hopefully.

"Well, you are a little nuts…"

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam sighed, "But I don't think you are crazy about this."

"Fatally, you think?" Dean said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, it didn't really work, Sam heard layers of fear there.

"I don't know, Dean."

"Poison usually is, though, in the long run, isn't it?"

"I don't know, but Dean, who? Someone at the bar?"

"I think I know who," Dean said as Sam put another cup of coffee in his hand. "Makes sense now."

"What does, Dean?"

"All of it, the bear, attacking me not you, last night—it grabbing my left leg like that."

Realization filled Sam, icy cold like the storm raging outside. "Charlie?"

"Yeah, I think so. I heard him on the radio, storm wasn't that bad and he seemed, I don't know, more curious than anything if the bear had killed me, you know?"

Sam poured some water from the kettle into a pan, adding oatmeal and raisins. _Charlie, I never thought, but how? We both had coffee and I'm not in trouble, wait, Dean had the water with the alka seltzer. It was brown, what kind of poison then are we dealing with? _"And the bear?" he said, still trying to work it out, the small voice from the night before had started getting louder finally. Something was working its way into awareness, Sam stirred the oatmeal and tried not to force it.

"He started dabbling pretty heavily into magic dealing with spirit animals and the like. Knew more about it that anyone I think. He could recite spells from a dozen cultures. Dad called him more than once for information about something we were hunting. Makes sense, polar bear out here, can't be killed with guns, has to be something magical, but what, you know…" he paused, taking a shuddering breath, leaning heavily on the headboard of the bed. "It all fits with Charlie, the poison, what it does, everything."

"What it does…?" Sam trailed off, finally it was there, something from the day before, something that had been lost with everything else. "Dean?" _No, I have to be wrong._

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"What did you mean?"

"Uh, I don't know, about what?"

"When I found you. You asked how I found you in the dark." _Oh god no. No, no._

"I was confused, sorry, Sam."

"Dean?" _No, no, no. Please no._

"Sam?" Dean said, turning his head towards Sam.

Suddenly it all made sense. Sam was panicking, nauseous, as he realized what was going on._On top of everything else, the fever, the wounds, nearly dying from the cold, poisoned, maybe fatally_. _On top of all of that, oh god. _It all made sense. Dean's comment about what the poison did, his panic, the questions, all of it. He wasn't just confused and unaware because of the hypothermia, the wounds and the poison, he was…_No, please let me be wrong._

"Dean? Can you…? Are you, oh god, Dean, are you…?" _Say no, please say no._

"Blind?"

"Yeah," Sam said._Please, please say no._

"Yep."

_**To Be Continued**_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Sorry for the slow update everyone. For those of you who don't already know I am madly trying to finish a novel for a contest, which if I win will let me devote all my time to writing which means more fanfic! (Crossed fingers much appreciated) And to make the slow updates up to you all, when the book is in the mail in two weeks I have two lovely stories planned. And then of course to calm my nerves I will be posting a lot of fic until I hear that I've won! Thanks to TraSan and Dennis for insights on this chapter and as always thanks to Abni the great amazingly patient beta!_

**Behind the Wall of Sleep**

**Chapter Four**

_Faces shine a deadly smile  
Look upon you at your trial_

It was dark. It was cold. The wind was howling outside the windows, the snow hitting the glass with a grainy delicate sound, a gentle counterpoint under the wail of the wind. The smell of coffee, acrid sour coffee, was wafting around the cabin, blending with the smell of cooking oatmeal and wood smoke. There was a soft scraping noise and a metallic clank as Sam stirred the pot in the fire. Dean sensed what was coming, he had known it would come eventually, but he'd been irrationally hoping that Sam would be a bit slower on the uptake than usual. _Of course I was the one who opened my big mouth about getting poisoned in the first place. And then I let it slip, brilliant Dean, cause what Sam needs to know is…_

"What it does…?" Sam trailed off, Dean could practically hear the wheels turning in his brother's mind. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"_As long as he doesn't ask point blank._

"What did you mean?"

"Uh, I don't know, about what?" _About the poison? Well Sam, see it's like this…Actually it's not see…_

"When I found you. You asked how I found you in the dark," Sam said, sounding confused.

"I was confused, sorry, Sam." _Because I'd just fallen off a cliff, after being hauled through the snow by a bear—oh and there is this little annoying thing that's kind of a problem._

"Dean?" Sam said, Dean could hear near panic in his brother's voice. He could imagine the look in Sam eyes, the "I am utterly freaked" look he occasionally got.

"Sam?" Dean said, turning his head towards the sound of his brother's voice, hoping to hide the truth a little longer. _As long as he doesn't ask point blank, I'll be ok. My leg is so screwed up I can't be expected to walk around and even if I do I can blame the leg not…_

"Dean? Can you…? Are you, oh god, Dean, are you…?" Sam's voice got quiet, dropping almost to a whisper.

_Well that's about a close to point blank as he can get without actually saying it. _Dean took a deep breath. "Blind?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered, Dean could practically hear the tears pooling at the edges of his brother's eyes.

"Yep," he said, trying to make it sound light, like it wasn't a problem at all. But he heard it, there in his own voice. _God, I sound utterly terrified. I hope Sam can't hear that. Of course he can't, he'll never hear anything like that in your voice, like you never hear it in his. _

"Dean…" Sam started, then stopped.

"Yeah?" _If you break now Sam, I will too. I can't see, somehow until just this instant it wasn't real. _

He heard his brother take a deep breath and let it out in a soft sigh. "Would you like a little more coffee to go with your oatmeal?" Sam's voice was strained, trying to sound cheerful, not succeeding.

"Yeah, thanks, Sam," Dean said, holding the cup out into the dark again. He felt Sam's hand take it from him. It was pressed back there a minute later, his brother's hand curling around his briefly before letting it go._Thanks, Sam._

"There's no cream for the oatmeal, hope that's ok," Sam said. Dean heard him scraping the oatmeal out of the pan and the clink of the spoon against a ceramic bowl.

"Oatmeal without cream, gross, Sammy, take it away," Dean said, smiling, remembering his brother refusing cereal without cream more than once.

"Well, too bad, you have to eat this or nothing else later. I'll let it sit here until it congeals into a mass of cold lumpy slime and that's all there'll be," Sam said, his tone mimicking Dean's when he'd spoken those very words years before.

"Fine, then I'll starve," Dean tried to imitate his brother's indignant whine.

"Fine," Sam said, laughing. "Here, eat it before it gets cold."

Sam put a bowl on the bed beside Dean. He could feel the warmth from the food against his leg. He carefully put the cup on the bed then reached out for the bowl, smiling when he managed to grab it without putting his hand into his food. The oatmeal smelled of cinnamon and raisins, the warmth coursing through Dean's body. The food and coffee combined with the pain pill Sam had given him earlier helped to relax him, warm him, and let him focus a little better on the problem at hand._Because somehow I don't think Charlie is done with me, with us, yet. _

"So, Sammy, a polar bear, where do you think that came from?" he said after they had been sitting silent for several long minutes. _And it's an important question, it's not like I'm at all freaked or anything. We need to know what we're dealing with so we can hunt it. _

"I'm not sure," Sam said with a sigh. "I need to do a little research. Finished?" Sam took the bowl out of his hands. Dean heard him move away, across the cabin. "I might have an idea, though," Sam said.

Dean could hear him rustling around, a soft clank as two pieces of metal slid together._Probably the guns, or maybe a gun and a knife. _Dean sat still, listening to the sound of the storm, listening as Sam moved back to where Dean was. The thump was a piece of wood dropping in the fire, then Sam sat down next to Dean, making sure he was in contact with him. _Thanks, Sam. Nice to know you're there. I can hear you and all, but it's still nice for those silent thinking moments you can be prone to._

"It just seems odd that Charlie would do this now, not when dad was alive, you know," Sam said. Dean knew his brother was looking at him.

"I think he might have tried before, Sam, when dad was alive," Dean sighed. "He even mentioned it Sam, the bastard even mentioned it when we were at his cabin," he said, frowning.

"What is it?" Sam said, his voice coaxing.

"I think that was him too, now that I think about what happened he might have even made a pass at poisoning us," Dean said. _He just might have, hmm. How did he know about that hunt? I hadn't really thought about that, but how did he know about that hunt? _

"Dean? Are you going to tell me or make me read your mind?"

"What?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened, Dean?"

"I hadn't really thought about it, but I think he was behind what happened," Dean said, still lost in thought. _Hmm, and poison, that would explain…_

"Dean?"

"Sam?"

"Do you tell me or do we play twenty questions?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Dean said. "It wasn't long before I came to Stanford. That park ranger dad knew—remember Stan Riley? Well he'd called dad and asked for his help. Dad and Stan didn't get along so hot, but Stan told him something was killing tourists, hikers in Yellowstone National Park, actually in West Yellowstone, so dad and I headed up that way to see what was going on…"

"How was Charlie behind it, Dean? Seems unlikely," Sam said. Dean could hear disbelief in his brother's voice.

"It never occurred to me until just now, but first of all how did Charlie know about that hunt at all and then looking at what happened now, I think…"

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam, ok."

_Fall had come early to West Yellowstone. The days were still warm, hot even, but the nights were cool, cold enough in fact to encourage the leaves to begin changing early. September hadn't quite come and still the scent of fall hung heavy over the forest. They'd arrived the night before, finding a motel that wasn't full of end-of-the-season tourists and calling Stan. The grizzled ranger had shown up for dinner, talking over some old times and then telling them about the animal that was stalking and killing tourists. He was sure it was something like a skinwalker and he was annoyed that it was taking people on his watch. _

_It was a bright morning when they followed Stan's truck out of town. The ranger had kindly packed supplies for them and John and Dean were both well provisioned for what they hoped would be a short, quick hunt. Stan smiled as they walked up the trail away from the parking area. Dean glanced back as Stan pulled out, the ranger was on the phone as he drove down from the trailhead towards town._

"_There's a hiker's cabin about ten miles in. We'll settle there and hunt tonight," John said._

"_Sounds good, dad," Dean said, watching the forest around them as they walked up the path. He had the feeling something was watching him as they made their way further and further from their vehicles. _I'm just nervous out in all this fresh air. _He walked on, stopping with his father several times to check on footprints and at one point a log that looked as if it had been painted in blood. "Nice," Dean said, grinning at his father._

_They reached the cabin shortly after midday and settled down to have something to eat and take a quick nap before hunting that night. Stan had packed an amazing amount of food into their packs. Dean sighed happily as he bit into the ham-and-cheese sandwich before cracking open a beer. His father followed suit after getting a fire started. The sandwich tasted a little off as Dean munched on it. _Probably used mayo instead of miracle whip. _But something made his stomach a little upset and he declined the piece of pie his father placed before him. Shortly after lunch they both settled down to take a nap._

"_Dean? Dean?" _

_Something was shaking him. _Earthquake? I know they have them here. _The shaking didn't quit. He thought he could hear his father's voice, panicked, from somewhere. The shaking got worse._

"_Dean!"_

_Something connected with his face. He wasn't sure what it was. He knew it was hard enough that it should have stung, but he couldn't feel anything. The shaking started again. His father's voice and then something against his face. _

"_Dean! Come on!"_

_Dean struggled against the shaking. "I don't want to get up yet, let me sleep a few more minutes ok?" _

"_No," his father said, his voice desperate. "You need to get your eyes open for me."_

_Dean forced his eyes open. "Ah, come on dad, it's night, can't I sleep a little longer?"_

"_What?" John's voice held a note of complete panic. _

"_Just let me sleep a little longer," Dean said, sleep already tugging at him again. His eyes were closed, why didn't his father let him alone?_

"_No, Dean, we need to get out of here."_

"_Don't think I can. I might have had too many beers. How many did I drink?" Dean said, trying to figure out where the sleepiness, the dizziness was coming from._

"_You had one, Dean, only one," John said._

"_I feel weird, dad."_

"_Yeah. Well you need to get up, we need to get going." John hauled him onto his feet._

"_Let me get my eyes open at least, dad," he complained._

"_We're going now, Dean," John was dragging him across the cabin. Dean felt the rush of fresh air as his father opened the door. His father stopped. "Dean, I'm going to set you down," he said very softly. "Ok?"_

"_Yeah," Dean could feel the tension in his father's body. He knew his father had seen something. _

"_No!" his father yelled as something closed over Dean's arm. He was yanked away, his head hitting the porch. Something tore at him, he felt it tugging on him, but there was no pain. He thought it must have a hold of his jacket. Dean could hear his father. He thought he heard his own voice screaming, then something connected with his head. It didn't hurt but it was enough to take him away. In the instant before darkness took him he heard an animal growl and smelled the stench of rotting flesh, then there was nothing. _

"I woke up three days later in the hospital," Dean said, listening to the sound of Sam's breathing, trying to gauge his brother's reaction. "I'd been torn up a little by whatever it was, but I was ok. I thought it was just the smack on the head that put me down like that."

"You'd been drugged," Sam said softly. "If you'd eaten the pie whatever it was might have killed you."

"Yeah, maybe. It didn't even occur to me until this, you know. Dad never really said anything about it at all. He was silent, you know how he got. He sent me on that New Orleans gig shortly after I got out of the hospital," Dean paused. "Huh."

"What?"

"I heard on the news that a ranger had been mauled and killed in Yellowstone. I wonder if it was Stan," Dean said.

"Dean?"

"What?"

"You were blinded then too, weren't you?" Sam said.

_I was, wasn't I? I hadn't thought of that at all, I just thought I was…That's why dad panicked. He must have realized that something was affecting me more than I thought. _"But I was fine when I woke up in the hospital."

"I don't think you got the full dose somehow. Think Dean, does this feel the same?" Sam said, Dean could hear the tiny edge of hope in his brother's voice.

Dean sighed, concentrating. _Does it feel the same? I don't think so. I was dizzy and sick first, not just sleepy and when I woke up back then I was numb. Whatever that thing was tore me up and I never felt it, not until I woke up. And the blindness was gradual this time, like it was supposed to make me helpless first, then the polar bear could get me._

"Hey," Sam said, interrupting his thoughts.

"What?"

"I think it was a polar bear last time. I just found an entry in dad's journal. I must have read it half a dozen times and it never made sense before. Never really clicked until now," Sam was quiet, Dean could hear the page flipping back and forth as Sam read and cross-referenced something.

"Sammy? I can't see what you're looking at, you know."

"What? Oh, god, sorry, Dean. It's an entry about the tupilak."

"Tu whaty lak?"

"It's an Inuit spirit creature, created by magic and usually takes the form of a polar bear or a seal."

"A seal?"

"Yeah, a seal."

"Cause seals are scary?"

"Demonic seals, Dean," Sam said, his voice chiding.

"Ooo, look out Sammy, here he comes, can you hear him? The demonic seal, I can hear his flippers of death dragging across the ice. Save me from the seal, Sammy, save me!"

"Shut up, Dean, it's not funny," his brother said, Dean could hear the laughter in his voice.

"It's a lot funny. Seals? Polar bears are scary, seals not so much."

"Even with flippers of death?"

"Especially with flippers of death," he said, laughing. _Seals, what next? Killer otters? Chickadees that go for the eyes? Murderous moths? I can see the headline "Man mutilated by murderous moths." That'd be just great, survive all that hell throws at us to be done in by a seal with a pack of killer moths. Or, god help me, squirrels. They have it in for me anyway. I'll be done in by seals and squirrels, butchered by moths and the bear will carry me off. Just freaking great. _

"Dean?" Sam's voice drifted down through the visions of moths carrying bits of his leg away. _Funny, that actually hurts, who'd think moths could hurt like that? I wonder what kind of moths they are, Sam will know. He needs to keep them away from me. I'm not sure how much I can take. _"Dean?" Sam sounded scared.

"What, Sam?" Dean said. _Only that sounded a lot like "wh sm" to me. What's going on?_

"Dean? Are you there?"

_What the hell do you mean by that? Of course I'm here. _"What is it Sam? What's wrong?" Dean heard himself clearer that time. Mostly what came out was a string of gibberish. "Sammy?"

"Can you open your eyes, Dean?" Sam's voice was desperate, afraid.

"Won't do any good," he muttered. _Sounded like words that time. _

"Yeah it will, come on Dean, open your eyes," Sam said, Dean could now hear fear and panic in his brother's calm, coaxing voice.

Dean opened his eyes, or he was pretty sure he did, the world was still dark. _When did I close them anyway? _"What is it?" he said again, this time hearing actual words.

"How do you feel?" Sam said gently.

"Fine, what were you saying about seals, Sam?" Awareness was creeping back. The dark, the cold, the pain of the wounds in his body and something else. He was resting against something warm, soft. There was a gentle weight over his shoulder, helping to prop him up. _What the hell?_

"What?"

"The seals with flippers of death?"

"Dean…"

"Sam? What?"

"You…that was…," Sam was struggling to get the words out. Dean could feel the tension in his brother.

"What?"

"That was more than an hour ago, Dean."

"What, no it wasn't, we were talking about seals..."

"No, Dean. It was a long time ago. You made that crack about the flippers of death and kind of laughed, then it was like, I don't know, you had a seizure or something. You started convulsing, I…I didn't want you to hurt yourself…and then you went limp. You were hardly breathing," Sam said quietly. "You haven't moved since."

"No, that can't be right. I was just quiet for a minute, thinking about the killer moths," Dean said. _And wow, now I sound insane._

"Killer moths?" his brother said. Dean felt a gentle hand on his forehead. "Your fever's going up I think. I'm going to try the radio again."

"You think Charlie is going to send someone?"

"No, but maybe I can raise someone else, you know. There's more than one channel. I didn't try before because we didn't know Charlie was the bad guy in all this."

"Why didn't you call while I was out?"

"I, uh," Sam trailed off.

"It's ok, Sammy, call now." _You thought I was going to die. I wouldn't have left you either, Sam. It's ok, I understand._

He heard Sam walk over and the click as his brother turned the radio on. There was a soft hum as the equipment warmed up. He could hear Sam changing frequencies, trying to get a signal.

"Won't work," Charlie's voice crackled over the radio.

"What won't work?" Sam responded.

"Trying to call for help, won't work. You only get me at the other end. How's Dean doing?"

"Dean's fine," Sam said.

"That's not what you said before. You said the bear got him, tore him up pretty bad. And I'll just bet it made it a little worse last night, too."

"He's fine," Sam repeated.

"Sure, sure he is." Charlie laughed, it had an hysterical edge to it. "And he's going to get finer and finer too."

"Why are you doing this?" Sam snapped.

"Why do you think?"

"It's not Dean's fault," Sam said. Dean could hear the anger simmering in his brother's voice. _It's probably a good thing Charlie isn't here right now, judging by that tone Sam would do something violent and bloody he would regret later. Funny I can hear that, but he sounds a lot like dad sometimes._

"Yeah it is, his and your dad's, but the demon got John before I could, so you get all the fun I planned for John, sorry about that Sam, but you're a Winchester, too. And what's good for one is good for all."

"Leave Sam out of this," Dean growled. _You bring Sam into this and you're dead. Somehow, someway, you're dead._

"Dean!" Charlie sounded surprised. "You can still hear me? How're the eyes?"_And what the hell did that mean? Of course I can hear you…Oh my god._

"What did you give him?" Sam demanded.

"A special surprise I've been working on. Took a while to perfect it, I've been trying bits of it for years. Finally got it down though, gave some to a friend of mine, poor Jim, sat with him to make sure it did what I wanted it to," he laughed maliciously. "Of course I couldn't see the seizures, but I could hear them, and Bill said he looked bad after he died, which made me happy. He took him out and buried him for me, since I was robbed of that pleasure myself."

"What did you give him?" Sam said quietly, calmly. "What's going to happen?" His voice was calm, Dean could hear pure rage in his brother's tone.

"All kinds of fun and games. I lost my eyes, lost my leg. Dean gets to lose more before all is said and done, slowly and surely. Right in front of you. Too bad John's going to miss it. Oh and there's still my friend out there hunting you. He'll be back too."

"I know about the tupilak, I'll get rid of it."

"You might at that Sam, you always were the smart one, but either way…"

"What?"

"Your brother dies, nice and slow, but he dies, no turning back, no antidote. Just dead."

"I'm going to hunt you down and kill you for this, Charlie," Sam said softly.

"I know you will. But Dean is still dead," Charlie laughed. "Well, talk to you later. Hey, when he starts screaming let me know. It took Jim nearly two days before he started screaming. Want to know how it goes."

"You're a dead man," Sam said. Dean heard a click as the radio shut off, silencing Charlie's hysterical laughter. _He's completely insane. I wonder if that happened on that hunt, or since. Either way he's dead. He brought Sam into this, he's dead._

It was silent in the small cabin. Dean could still hear the storm raging outside, but his brother was quiet. Even the sound of his breathing diminished. Nothing, it was like Sam had left him there, all alone in the cold and dark.

"Sam?" he said, ashamed at the fear in his voice. _Where is he? I could hear him a minute ago, what's going on? What did Charlie mean…?_

Footsteps, sounding muffled like he was hearing them through water, dragged slowly across the room coming towards him. Weight settled on the bed. "Dean…"

"It's ok, Sam, I've said it before, it's a dangerous gig."

"Charlie's insane."

"No doubt about that."

"No I mean I can figure a way out of this, Dean," Sam said. Dean could hear the tears in his brother's voice. He could picture them, pooled in his eyes, slowly leaking down a cheek.

"I know you will, Sammy," Dean said, reaching out his hand, suddenly needing the physical contact in that cold dark place. A place slowly growing quiet, the sounds of the storm disappearing. _Thank god, maybe the storm's dying down enough for us to get out of here. Although how that's going to happen with Bill helping Charlie I just don't know._

Sam took his hand. "And no matter what, Dean, I won't leave. I'll be right here, ok?"

_Thanks, Sammy. _"I know, and Sam?" _I'm not sure I should ask you, but I'm beginning to think I'm not getting out of this one._

"Yeah?"

"No matter what happens…" _Sam, I'm not sure I should ask you. I'm really not, but he brought you into this, I have no idea what he has in mind, but Sam he doesn't get away with bringing you in, or trying to get dad, ok?  
_

"Oh, don't worry, Dean," and he could hear an edge of steel in his brother's voice, a terrifying tone that he had never really heard before in Sam's normally gentle voice. "Charlie's dead. The only question now is how easy he gets to die."

_**To Be Continued**_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Just wanted to add a note for those fans affected by the strike and desperate for it to end. Heather03nmg has listed a wonderful site on her profile that is supporting our writers. This site has a listing of all of our favorite shows. Just pick your favorite (Supernatural of course) and type in your e-mail and zip. To save time, there is already a letter written to the heads of the networks but feel free to personalize. We need to do our bit to help end this strike. Please take a few seconds to show your support to the writers_.

_A/N II: Not death fic. Thank you as always to beta Abni for unending patience and commas._

**Behind the Wall of Sleep**

**Chapter Five**

_Words that grow read to your sorrow  
Words that grow read no tomorrow_

The wind was howling outside the cabin, the plastic bags that made up the door billowing and flapping, straining at the duct tape holding them in place. The fire spat a spark with a loud pop and over it all was the sound of laughter. The sick noise of someone reveling in his brother's suffering, it was the laugh of a man who was completely insane.

"You're a dead man," Sam said, turning off the radio to silence Charlie's hysterical laughter. _Worse than dead, Charlie, you are going to pay for what you did to Dean. In the past and now. _ He stared moodily at the radio. _What the hell do I do? How do I get Dean out of here? What did Charlie mean, Dean could still hear him? Oh god. _

"Sam?" Dean said, his voice sounded steady, but Sam could hear a little fear coloring his tone.

Sam stood and walked over to the bed, sitting carefully beside his brother, trying not to jar Dean's wounded body too much. "Dean…"

"It's ok, Sam, I've said it before, it's a dangerous gig," his brother said with a little smirking half smile.

"Charlie's insane," Sam said. _And that can lead to mistakes, Dean, something I can figure out, something I can solve._

"No doubt about that."

"No, I mean I can figure a way out of this, Dean," Sam said, he felt tears in his eyes as he looked at Dean, his brother's sightless eyes were turned towards him.

"I know you will, Sammy," Dean said, reaching out his hand.

Sam took his brother's hand gently in his own. _Don't worry Dean, I won't tease you about this, I think you have something of an excuse right now. _ "And no matter what, Dean, I won't leave. I'll be right here, ok?"

"I know, and Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"No matter what happens…" Dean said quietly. Sam looked at his brother, easily reading the emotion in his eyes. Sam could see the tears held in check, even now, as Dean struggled with his request.

"Oh, don't worry, Dean. Charlie's dead. The only question now is how easy he gets to die." _For what he's done to you, Dean, he dies. And no matter what I say to you, it won't be easy for Charlie. No, not for this. _

"Good," Dean said. "He deserves it for bringing you into it."

"What?" Sam looked at his brother, at Dean's angry determination. _You believe that's the reason, don't you? Sometimes, Dean, and don't take this wrong, but I think you're insane. _"Shut up."

"What?"

"Just shut up," Sam said, forcing a light tone, hoping Dean would respond in the usual way.

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam smiled, comforted by the exchange as always. "I'm going to find a way out of here, Dean."

"What about our friend the bear and his buddies?" Dean said.

"Dad has a little information in the journal about tupilaks, I'm hoping there's a solution in there, somewhere," Sam said, watching Dean. His brother was quiet for several long minutes. Sam started to panic. "Dean?"

"Huh? Sorry, I was thinking. Something about…hmmm…after the hunt in Montana. Let me think for a minute more ok?"

"Don't strain anything with all that thinking," Sam said, getting up. "I'm going to make a little more coffee while you think, it could take awhile right?"

"Shut up, Sammy," Dean said with a grin.

Sam pushed the kettle further into the fire and spooned the coffee crystals into their cups. _I wish there was a little milk or something for the coffee. It's pretty bad. I wonder if Dean needs another pain pill? _He glanced up at his brother, Dean's cheeks were red, the glassy eyes indicating fever. _I have to get him out of here. I have to get him to medical care for those wounds the bear gave him before they get worse. _Sam made the coffee and sat back down on the edge of the bed. "How's the thinking going, Dean?"

"Hard work," Dean said, taking the cup Sam pressed into his hand. "There's something, I can't quite put my finger on it yet. You know, it's right there, I know it is, I just can't see it yet?" He stopped, looking down, turning his head away from Sam.

"Dean?" Sam said softly, sensing the change in mood, his brother was very close to despair at that moment. Sam could see it. "It's going to be ok."_It has to be ok Dean, there is no other way this will turn out._

"I know I'm a dead man, you know, that's not it. That's almost the easy part. But what he said? Surprised I could still hear him? Do you think…?" Dean swallowed.

"I think he's just playing with your head," Sam said. _God, I hope that's true._

"Yeah, could be. Sammy…" Dean turned his head back around, almost as if he were looking at his brother. Tears made his eyes bright.

"I'm going to figure this out, Dean," Sam said. "All of it, including your eyes." _I will, I promise Dean._

"How, Sam? Charlie has been blind since that hunt, nothing anyone could do about it and he looked everywhere for answers you know. Called ever healer he could think of, I know that, dad told me after Charlie called Joe Bilagody, the Navajo medicine man. Nothing could be done." He paused taking a deep breath. "How can I hunt like this? I'm useless." Sam could hear defeat, despair and almost resignation in those quiet words.

"Dean," Sam said, then stopped for a minute, pushing the rage at Charlie back down. _He will die for this, nothing easy about it at all. _"You aren't…You can't…I don't think this is the same poison. You heard him, he's been working on it for years. It's something else, and if it can be done it can be undone." _I hope that's true Dean, and if there is even a tiny chance…_

Dean cleared his throat and wiped the tears off his face with one hand. "That's a nice little New Age sentiment. What's that from 'The Girls' Book of Little Spells'?"

"That might be the one," Sam said, smiling, letting Dean change the subject.

"Thought so," Dean said, grinning at him. "I wish I could remember…Well maybe if I don't force it. Can I have more coffee?" Dean held out the cup, Sam noticed his hand was shaking badly.

"Sure," he took the cup from his brother, watching Dean's hand until his brother let it drop on the bed. Even then Sam could see it shaking a little where it rested on the striped mattress. _Is that pain doing that? _"Do you need another pain pill?"

"No, not yet. I'm ok right now," Dean said with a little smile.

_What the hell did that mean, Dean? Your leg is a bloody wound, your back was torn open, your wrist... _"How bad, Dean?"

"Nothing, Sam. I told you I'm ok."

Sam stirred the coffee, taking several deep breaths before he sat back down on the bed. When Dean put out his hand for the cup Sam gently grabbed it, feeling the tremors in the muscles. Dean pulled from the contact, but not very hard. Sam put his hand on Dean's chest, feeling the same tremors there. His brother's heart was beating sluggishly, his breathing shallow. _Damn it Dean, I'm not going to play this game this time. _

"There's nothing you can do about it," Dean said gently.

"Trying to make me feel better about it all, Dean?" Sam snapped. "It doesn't really you know. How the hell long has this been going on anyway?" He was surprised at the anger in his voice. _I'm a little worried, I think. More than that, I am frantic that he is not telling me something that might be important. _

"Not long," Dean said defensively.

"Lying to me again, Dean?" _Cause if you are Dean…I swear…_

"I…I only really noticed when you asked about the pill. I was wondering why I…Sorry," Dean said.

Sam sighed and picked the coffee up off the floor where he had set it. He pressed the cup into Dean's hands, making sure his brother had a fairly good grip before letting go. Dean smiled at him and sipped the coffee.

"I wonder if the poison has a supernatural component or if it is all organic?" Sam said, reaching for their father's journal and flipping through the pages. After several minutes it occurred to him that his brother had been very quiet. He looked up, Dean was focused inward, Sam could see that. "Dean? What?"

"When dad and I were attacked," Dean said quietly, musing. "I remember in the hospital, I was listening to dad talk on the phone, I think. He said something about the spell…turning the spell somehow, maybe? Hmm, and you know that Stan was mauled by a bear, I wonder if…One more cup?"

"It had something to do with this? Could be, but what?" Sam said, taking the empty cup from Dean. He sat back down by the fire to make the coffee, watching the steam rise out of the kettle's spout.

"I don't know, Sammy. If it had been a seal, well then we wou…" Dean stopped in the middle of the word. Sam looked up in time to see Dean's eyes roll up in his head. Sam was up before the convulsions started. He held Dean down as his body was swept with violent spasms. Dean whimpered in pain, "Stop them, Sammy, please," he was saying. Sam wasn't even sure Dean knew he was speaking at all. The convulsions continued, the small whimper getting louder until is broke in a near scream, agony reflected in the sound. The convulsions ended abruptly, Dean relaxing, dropping against the bed, in death-like stillness. Sam checked his pulse and watched the rise and fall of his chest, so slight he could barely make it out, but Dean was breathing.

Sam pulled his brother up so he could prop Dean against his shoulder again, waiting. He hadn't told Dean about the next part after the first attack. _Sorry Dean, didn't want to worry you, I figured blacking out and convulsions were enough. _Dean's breathing changed, the sound getting harsh, wheezing as he fought for a breath. His body tensed with the straining breath, his head bent over his chest. The gasping continued for how long Sam didn't know, the minutes had blended into one long moment of terror, waiting for his brother's breathing to just stop. After an eternity Dean's breathing seemed to level off and his head dropped against Sam's shoulder.

Sam shifted a little so he could pull the blanket up, it was cold in the cabin. He settled one arm over his brother, keeping Dean upright in case he had another attack. Their father's journal was still on the bed, Sam picked it up, propped it on one leg, and started leafing though it, looking for a solution. He paused every few minutes to listen to the sound of Dean's breathing.

**XXX**

Dean was sipping his coffee, leaning against the headboard. Sam was sitting close enough so he was in contact. The coffee was a little sour, the funny flavor that instant coffee always had. _I wonder what makes it taste like that? Is it something in the process? How do they make it anyway? Why does decaf taste bad? Why am I worrying about coffee? What happened after that hunt? I remember dad…Do polar bears like coffee, I wonder? I think bears like sweet stuff. The hunt, what about the hunt? I think I might be starting to slip. I think I won't mention that to Sam just yet._

"Dean? What?" Sam said, Dean could hear concern in his brother's voice.

"When dad and I were attacked… I remember in the hospital," Dean paused, thinking back over the years to that day in the hospital. _I'd just really woken up. I was still pretty out of it, drifting in and out, there one minute gone the next, but dad was talking to someone. _ "I was listening to dad talk on the phone, I think. He said something about the spell…turning the spell somehow, maybe? Hmm, and you know that Stan was mauled by a bear, I wonder if…One more cup?"

"It had something to do with this? Could be, but what?" Sam said, taking the empty cup from him. He heard his brother settle back down by the fire, the spoon clanking gently as Sam added coffee to the cup.

"I don't know, Sammy. If it had been a seal, well then we would know, wouldn't we. Not a lot of seals running loose." He sighed. His back was aching from lying on the hard bed. He thought he heard something, a funny sound, then he noticed an odd sensation in his legs. Something was gently tugging at him, he felt something feather-soft on his hand, then it clamped down on him. Pulling on his skin. He felt the brush of wings. _It's the damn moths, they're back. _They were tearing at him, pulling little bits away, they were everywhere, tiny touches of pain, agony coursed through his body. _Go away, first polar bears and now moths? Why isn't Sam doing something, can't he see what's happening. _"Stop them, Sammy. Please."

"No, Dean, it's for your own good," his brother said.

_What? No, Sam, no._Dean tried to bite back the little groan that escaped his lips. The moths hadn't stopped tearing at him, they were joined by something larger, something with teeth that bit down on his injured leg causing a searing jolt of pain to flash through his body, and it didn't stop, it just kept going until his mind shut itself off and he plunged into darkness.

It was the difficulty breathing that woke him. Something was trying to keep him from taking a breath. _The moths, they're here again._ "Make them go away," he said to Sam.

"No, Dean, it's for your own good, they're helping you," Sam said reasonably.

"Please no, help me Sammy, please, make them stop," he said. His brother was standing beside the bed. "Please, Sam."

"No, I have things to do. You need to take care of this on your own."

"Don't leave." He heard his brother's footsteps as he moved across the cabin and out the door. "Sam, no, please." He tried to get up, his injured leg collapsed under his weight. "SAM!" He lay on the floor, waiting for his brother, Sam didn't come. "Sam?"

"Dean?" Sam said.

"You're here?" Dean said, his voice sounded odd, hoarse. His throat hurt and felt a little strained.

"Of course I am," Sam said.

"Why didn't you stop the moths, Sam? Couldn't you see what they were doing to me?"_That sounds completely insane. Moths, Dean? Think you might have been hallucinating a little? But it felt so real._ He realized he was leaning against Sam, his brother's arm was over his shoulder. "There were no moths," he said out loud.

"Dean?" Sam said. Dean could hear the panic in his brother's voice, the concern.

"And you never left," he said.

"No, Dean. We were talking about Stan, remember? And you said it would be easier if it had been a seal and then…" He felt Sam swallow.

"No, we talked after that, then the moths came," Dean said. _It wasn't real, it felt so real. My throat hurts. Oh, god. What did Charlie say about screaming? _"How long that time Sam? Was I, did I?"

"About two hours," Sam said gently, Dean felt his brother's hand on his forehead. "I think your fever has gotten worse, too."

"But this is the poison, I think."

"Yeah."

"Have I hit the screaming phase yet?" he asked Sam, knowing the answer. "I wonder how long I have?"

"I'm going to figure this out, Dean. The storm is starting to die down. I think we can get out of here tomorrow."

"What about the demon seal?"

Sam laughed a little. "Well the seal hasn't shown up yet and I have an idea about the bear. Tupilaks can be turned from their victims. I need to get a few things, but I think I can manage the spell."

"That'll be helpful. It'd be nice though if he brought some coke with him before you did him in," Dean said, the image of the polar bear at the door making him smile. The bear padded in and sat down on the end of the bed looking at him with sad eyes.

"What?" Sam said. "Dean?"

_You know, Sam, the bears from the commercials? _Dean snapped back into awareness, dark, cold, painful awareness. "I'm slipping, I think that might be what Charlie meant? Maybe he was surprised I could still tell one reality from another?"

"What do you mean, Dean?"

"The bears with coke?"

"No about slipping?" Sam said, his voice frantic.

"I didn't say…Damn."

"What?"

"I said the loud part quiet and the quiet part loud," he said, trying to force a light tone.

"Not funny, Dean."

"No, not really is it?" Dean sighed, it was hard to focus all of a sudden, almost like he'd been drugged. "I'm a little sleepy, Sam."

"I'll keep the moths away, Dean."

"Thanks, Sammy," He felt his brother pull the blanket over his shoulder as he drifted into the dark.

"Dean?" Sam's voice broke into a dream of sunlit beaches and warm sand.

"Yeah?" he opened his eyes, half expecting the blue-green ocean, reality slammed back in the dark, cold circle he was now trapped in.

"I heard something, I'm going to get up for a minute, ok? I just want to check," Sam said, his voice soft.

"Ok." Dean shifted off his brother's shoulder. _And I wonder how long it is going to take to live this down anyway. Oh he won't mention it for weeks, then one day out comes the blackmail. Been doing it to me for years._He heard Sam moving across the cabin floor, then under the howl of the wind he heard something else, something rubbing against the side of the cabin and then a soft growl. "Sam?"

"He's right outside the cabin, Dean. Stay by the fire, ok?" Sam said, his voice completely calm as he faced the creature outside the door.

"What's going on?"

"It hasn't come through yet," Sam said. "I wonder what…" He didn't have time to answer. Dean heard his brother yell and then the gun went off. Sam yelled again, an incoherent sound, not really words at all, the gun exploded again and the bear grunted in pain. The wind was howling through the cabin, the bags flapping wildly. Their noise was covering everything, but even then Dean heard a soft groan.

"Sam?" Dean called out in the darkness. "Sam?" He heard the growing panic in his voice. Dean swung his legs cautiously off the bed and staggered a few steps before dropping to all fours. He crawled across the room towards the sound of the groan. His hand ran into his brother. "Sam?" he said, reaching out to feel his brother's heartbeat. It was there, strong. _And a little fast there Sammy, a little bit fast. _

"Dean?" Sam said. "Are you ok?"

"Nope, polar bear got me," Dean said with a sigh of relief. "Are you ok?" he said, concerned Sam still hadn't tried to sit up.

"Yeah, I just banged my head a little. I was waiting for the place to stop spinning before I sat up." He pushed himself up. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Looking for hot chicks, Sammy," Dean said, letting Sam pull him onto his feet and help him back to the bed. "Thanks."

"I'm going to fix the door, ok? I'll be right over there, ok?"

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean said. He was listening to his brother work on the door, the ripping sound of duct tape as Sam stuck the bags over the door.

"Ok, Dean, you're all sealed in, I'll be back in three days, ok?" Sam said, his voice muffled.

"What? Sam? Where are you going?"

"Well I told you I needed a few things to make the bear go away, and I am not going to wait around for you to walk out of here, I'll be back."

Dean was panicked, "No, Sam, please don't leave. Please." He felt a tug of fear coupled with something else, pain lancing out of his chest. The moths were back, starting to settle on his body, flapping their wings in time to a seal's bark. Dean could hear the flippers dragging across the floor towards him. _Scary, ok, seals when you can't see, when you are alone are a little scary. _He felt pressure on his leg before the seal pulled him out of bed and started dragging him back out of the cabin. The moths were still pulling and plucking at his skin. "Stop, please, SAM!"

"Dean?" A gentle hand was against his forehead. He was propped up against Sam again, the comforting warmth of his brother's arm over his shoulders. "Dean, are you back?"

"Sammy?" Dean sighed. _How much was real? How long was I out this time? And moths? What the hell is with the moths? _"You didn't leave? You didn't seal the door?" _Seal the door, with flippers of death? Oops. Focus, Dean._

"I sealed the door, but I didn't leave, Dean," Sam said. "I was over there when I heard you…"

"Scream?" Dean said.

"Maybe a little, you said don't leave," Sam said gently. "I won't, Dean."

"How long this time?"

"About an hour."

"But the bear was here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, the bear was here, Dean, that's why I had to fix the door," Sam said. "I'm ok. Don't worry."

"Good," Dean said. "How long till it comes back again do you think?"

"I didn't hurt it nearly as bad this time, I think it will be back pretty soon. I'll try for a better shot next time."

"Yeah, Sam, sloppy shooting when you're being attacked by a polar bear…I don't know…" Dean shook his head in mock disgust.

"I know, I know," Sam said, Dean could hear a little smile in his brother's voice.

"I wonder how soon is pretty soon?"

"I don't know," Sam said with a sigh. "Dean? What's wrong?"

The weird drugged feeling was starting to flow up his body again. He was fighting it, trying for stay awake, trying to stay with Sam. "Sammy?" he said, only he heard a mumbled "smy" instead.

"It's ok, Dean, don't fight it, I'll be right here," Sam said.

"Yeah," he said as he drifted away. He was still caught in that moment between sleep and waking, warm, comfortable without pain. Then he realized he was alone. "Sam?" Dean said, opening his eyes. "Sam?" The panic was very clear in his voice.

"Here, Dean, it's ok, I was just getting some Top Ramen to make soup. Sorry, I should have waited until you woke up," he said. Dean heard Sam moving on the other side of the room.

"That sounds good," Dean said, pushing himself up to lean against the headboard. He had to wait as the world tilted and bobbed before righting itself again. Something fluttered by his ear.

"Yeah, it's the blue kind," Sam said with a laugh, coming back over to the fire.

"You always liked the blue kind best," Dean said, smiling. He felt something land on his hand, tugging a little at the flesh. _Not real, ignoring you. Where's a moth-eating bat when you really need one. _ "And only noodles. You always made me drain the water off so you just had noodles."

"I still like it that way," Sam said, settling down by the fire. Dean felt his brother's weight lean against the bed.

"I know. Freak." The tugging on his hand was starting to get painful. Another moth landed on his hand. "Sam?" he said as calmly as possible, hoping to not completely panic Sam.

"Yeah, Dean?" Sam stood up, Dean could hear the worry in his tone.

_Should have known I couldn't fool you. _"The moths seem to be coming back," he said conversationally. "Could you maybe ask them to stop eating me alive?"

"Dean?" He felt Sam's hand on his shoulders. "Try and stay here, ok?"

"Where would I go, Sam?" Dean said, another moth was on his leg. "Just make them go away."

"I'll make them go away, trust me. Dean, hang on, no matter what I'll be here, ok?" Sam's voice sounded frightened. The moths descended on him again. He heard Sam talking to him, his voice panicked, until finally Dean slipped away again into the dark

A sound, like a groan of pain crept into his awareness. _What was that? How long have I been out? _Wind was blowing through the cabin again, it was cold. "Sam?" he said, sitting up in the bed. "Sammy?" The groan came again, sounding more like a growl.

"Sam, you ok?" When he received no answer he forced himself up, looking into the darkness. "Sammy?" He heard the noise again and dropped out of the bed to move towards the sound. He crawled towards the door. "Sammy?" His seeking hand ran into his brother, Sam felt cold. Snow was blowing in on Dean's face, the wind driving stinging pieces of ice into his cheeks. Something was growling out in the darkness.

"Sam?" he said. He reached out desperately, hoping to find a heartbeat. He stopped as his hand encountered a wet, sticky hole where his brother's chest should have been. _No. Sam, what happened? No, god no. No. When? How long was I out? Oh god Sam, I'm so sorry. Sam, please, please. No, Sammy._

The bear growled from behind him, Dean could smell the death scent on its breath. _Take me then, you already took Sam. Oh god, Sam, I'm so sorry. _He felt the bear move closer and its jaws closed around his neck, its teeth pressing through flesh, crunching against bone. Dean's air was cut off, gagging in pain he tried to stop it, tried to get away from the iron jaw holding him immobile. Dean fought against it for only a moment longer before giving in to the inevitable.

His world ended in a flash of pain.

_**To Be Continued**_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: For those of you following the saga of my novel—it is finished and in the mail and out of my hands now! Crossed fingers are much appreciated. And now that it is finished I will be calming my nerves with Fanfic, so more stories with nice fast updates! _

_A/N II: I backed up this chapter to Sam's POV a little (just before the end of chapter five). Dean was not really clear on reality and I thought it would be good to know what really happened._

**Behind the Wall of Sleep**

**Chapter Six**

_Sleeping wall of remorse  
Turns your body to a corpse  
Turns your body to a corpse  
Sleeping wall of remorse  
Turns your body to a corpse_

The storm was dying down, the howl in the wind had dropped a full tone. The bags, flapping on the door, were snapping with a less desperate note. It even felt a little warmer in the cabin. Sam was sure that was an illusion, but it didn't feel as cold anymore.

He shifted a tiny bit, trying not to disturb Dean. _Of course the urge to wake him up is becoming something of an obsession. Ok, more than that. I want to wake him up just to make sure I still can. _Dean had dropped off into a drugged sleep nearly half an hour before. He had lain, unmoving, for all that time, not even a small mutter in his sleep breaking his silence.

To Sam it looked a lot like death.

He was going through their father's journal trying to figure out how to deal with the tupilak. Their father had amassed a fair amount of information—the trick, as always, was weeding out what he needed. Sam was starting to get a pretty good idea of how to deal with the bear and any other tupilak Charlie decided to send after them. _I just need a few things and I think I can make it work. _Sam sighed and closed the journal. He sat listening to the wind for a moment, then smiled as his stomach growled. _Ok, food. Good idea._

He gently moved Dean off of his shoulder, then pulled the blanket over his brother. Walking to the cupboards, he started pulling them open. _I remember seeing some Top Ramen in here._

"Sam?" Dean said, a little sleepily. "Sam?" Panic that time. Sam could hear it clearly, he looked over, Dean was trying to push himself up on an elbow.

"Here, Dean," he said. "It's ok. I was just getting some Top Ramen to make soup. I should have waited till you woke up."

"Thanks, sounds good," Dean said. He managed to sit up and prop himself against the headboard.

"Yeah, it's the blue kind," Sam said, walking back over to the fire. _Trying to make it normal for you, Dean. As normal as it can be what with you blind and dying and all. _

"You always liked the blue kind best," Dean said with a smile. _You're trying to make it ok for me, aren't you Dean? Nice try, it's not working though._Sam looked at him. His brother twitched his hand, almost like something was on it. Fear flared in Dean's eyes. _Ah, Dean, it's starting again, isn't it? And you're pretending everything is ok, as usual. You know that's a little annoying at times. _"And only noodles. You always made me drain the water off so you just had noodles."

"I still like it that way," Sam said, sitting down by the fire. Sam leaned back against the bed, keeping one eye on the water and one eye on Dean.

"I know. Freak," Dean said. Sam saw a spasm of pain on his brother's face. "Sam?" Dean said, calmly, fear behind the casual tone.

"Yeah, Dean?" Sam stood. Dean was reacting to something Sam couldn't see. _Dean, what is it?_

"The moths seem to be coming back," Dean said, turning his head towards Sam, smiling a little wistful smile. "Could you maybe ask them to stop eating me alive?"

"Dean?" Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Dean's eyes rolled up in his head a little, a convulsion shuddered through his body. "Try and stay here, ok?" Sam said, panicked.

"Where would I go, Sam? Just make them go away," Dean said, desperately.

"I'll make them go away, trust me. Dean, hang on, no matter what I'll be here, ok?" Sam said, holding Dean down as another convulsion ripped through him. "Hang on, Dean please. It will be over soon, I promise. Trust me, we've gotten through these spells before, just hang on, ok?" Sam was babbling a little, trying to keep Dean from hurting himself as his body reacted to the drug, to the fever that was pulling him away.

Dean screamed.

It was a sound of terror, of anguish, of pain. His body went rigid for a minute and he screamed again, the sound torn out of him. Sam pulled his brother against him, hoping to get through to him somehow. Dean's body was convulsing violently now, he was moaning. Sam was waiting, and suddenly Dean went limp, His breathing becoming ragged, gasping breaths. Sam sat down and propped Dean up against him. Finally, his brother relaxed, dropping down in that unmoving stillness that was lasting longer, pulling Dean further and further away each time it happened.

_He's dying. I'm not sure what I can do, Charlie did a good job with this, whatever it is. As soon as Dean is safe Charlie is going to pay for this. And not easy. Sorry, Dean, not easy at all, I just can't, not this time. _He sighed. _Oh, god, Dean, I'm sorry I got you into this, I'll figure a way out though. Trust me, ok? _

Sam reached for John's journal, going through the pages one more time. _I'm sure I can do this. _He listened to Dean's breathing for another moment before gently laying his brother down. Stretching, he walked across the room. _I thought so. _A small tuft of polar bear fur was caught in the remains of the door. Sam picked it up and gathered the other items he needed. _Now I just have to wait, nothing I can do right now. _He sat back down beside Dean, swinging his legs up onto the bed. He let his head drop back against the headboard, his eyes drifted close. _Maybe just a five-minute nap._

The sound woke him. Something was scraping along the side of the building, he could hear it clearly. The sound of the wind was completely gone. It stopped just outside the door, Sam could hear it snuffling at the bags. A grunt, then something was pressing against his makeshift door, the plastic expanding, stretching until he could clearly see the outline of the paw. He propelled himself off of the bed, reaching for the gun and the objects he had left lying on the table.

The bear exploded through the door an instant later, snow flowing into the room with it. The storm had died down, but it was still snowing. The bear took a powerful swing at Sam and sent the gun flying across the room. The huge paw connected, Sam was down. It walked slowly over to where he was lying on the floor. Sam held perfectly still as it got close, nudging him with its nose. It seemed curious, it was sniffing him like a puppy discovering a new friend. It put a huge clawed paw on his chest and sniffed him a little more. He was held immobile by the beast. It was pressing down on him suddenly, making it hard to breathe, causing black spots to dance in front of his eyes. _I think it's playing with me._ The thought hovered just at the edge of consciousness. _I feel a little weird, I wonder what that's about? Could it have killed me? Am I dead? Dean? Are you ok? If I'm dead what happened to Dean? No, I can't be dead, I have to help him. Dean?_

"Sam?" Dean said. Sam tried to answer, all he could force out was a groan. "Sammy?" He could hear Dean moving, sitting up, the springs of the bed creaking under his weight. _No, Dean, it's here. Please, just stay there._ Sam tried to move, he couldn't, the bear was leaning on him heavily. Sam fought through the black spots, fighting through the edge of unconsciousness that was threatening to pull him away from Dean. He forced an eye open, the bear was focused on Dean.

"Sam, you ok?" Dean said. Sam heard him drop to the floor. "Sammy?"

"No, Dean, stay there!" Sam said, forcing a tiny sound out of his chest. He looked at his brother, Dean had that odd look he got in his eyes when he was trapped in a hallucination, the look the moths caused. He was coming towards him, sliding one hand in front of himself. Finally that seeking hand came into contact with Sam's shoulder. The bear was silent, watching Dean.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was full of grief. "No, Sam, what happened? No, god no. When? How long was I out? Oh, god, Sam, please, please no."

Sam looked at his brother, Dean had tears running down his face. _What does he see? Or what does he think happened. _"Dean," he whispered. "It's ok, I'm here." _Dean, please, just back away. The bear, it's really here. I can't help you right now, I'm trying Dean, but I can't right now._

The bear suddenly moved off of Sam. Dean froze as he heard the movement. The bear growled. "Take me then," Dean said, frightened and a little defiant. "You already took Sam."

"No, Dean," Sam said struggling up. He watched in horror as the bear closed its giant jaws around his brother's neck. "NO!" Sam shouted as his brother tried to struggle for an instant and then went limp in the bear's jaws.

The bear was dragging Dean away from Sam. Blood was staining its jaws. Sam pulled himself to the scatter of small objects on the floor. _Please have this right, dad, please. _He looked at the bear, it was growling, watching him as he assembled a small figure. _Inuit, hmm, if I use the Latin pronunciations will it work? _He started the spell, keeping an eye on the bear. It had stopped, it was just standing there, Dean in its bloody jaws, watching Sam. Its head was tipped a little to the side as if it were listening to something. Sam finished, picked up the small figure he had created and stood. The bear watched him, still listening to something.

Sam heard it then, the thump of a helicopter. _Thank god, please stop, please don't be too late. Dean, I think we're going to get out of here in a minute. Don't be dead, ok?_

"Let him go," Sam said to the bear. It looked at him for a minute. _Oh, god, maybe it didn't work. _"Let go," he said again, making the order clear. The bear looked at him and gently put Dean on the floor. The helicopter was getting close. The bear looked at him, questioning. "Go," Sam said softly. He was desperate to get to Dean. "I'll need you later." The bear kind of nodded and slipped out the door, disappearing in the swirling snow.

Sam ran to Dean, dropping to his knees beside his brother. Dean's neck was a mess, Sam felt desperately for a heartbeat. Nothing. Dean wasn't breathing. "No, Dean, come on," Sam said. He started CPR, hoping it would work. _Please, Dean, please. _ Sam was keeping the count, lost in between the compressions and the breaths. _Please, Dean. Come on, it's so close, we are almost out of here, don't do this, not now. _He hoped the damage to Dean's neck was not hindering the CPR. _Please, Dean, I can solve this if you just hang on for a little longer. Please._

"What's going on?" someone asked.

"My brother," Sam said.

Sam was pulled away from Dean. He watched as the medic knelt beside his brother and started working on him. _Come on Dean, come on. _Someone else came into the room. A gentle hand pulled Sam away from where they were trying to help Dean.

"What happened?"

Sam looked at the man standing in front of him. "A bear," he said. "And something else." _How much do I tell them? What can they do to help? _"I think he was poisoned. He's been hallucinating."

"It looks like the bear might have taken a run at you, too," the man said gently. "Let's get you out to the chopper." He took Sam's arm and started pulling him towards the door. Before he really realized what was happening, Sam found himself in a seat of the rescue helicopter with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The man who had led him out had bandages in his hands.

"How did you find us?" Sam said.

"Routine run, noticed the smoke, thought we should check, we always do after a storm." He was carefully bandaging Sam's arm.

Sam looked down at the claw mark in his arm. "I didn't even notice that." He was watching the door to the cabin, waiting. They finally brought a stretcher out. "Is he…?"

"Alive," one of them said as they climbed into the helicopter. "He's in bad shape, but alive."

"Thank god," Sam said. He felt the copter lift off. Everything was a little hazy all of a sudden. _Shock? Reaction to the attack or the spell? Or, maybe, Sam, how about plain old simple exhaustion? You've slept how much? And how long were we out there? _He fell asleep as the copter turned over the forest, his last sight through the window was a huge white creature moving through the woods.

The bump as the helicopter landed woke Sam enough to let him get himself out. He made it three steps before his legs started to give out. Someone eased him down on something soft. _Stretcher? I don't think I need that, just give me a hand._ He was rolled into the ER. He managed to give the staff names before he was asleep again.

It was the quiet that woke him. It was nearly silent, only the muted sound of voices from far away, not loud enough for words to form, just a soft murmur of sound that was somehow oddly comforting. Sam opened his eyes._Hospital. _He was in the bed by the window, a curtain was pulled between his bed and the other in the room. His arm ached a little, he looked down, a little surprised to see it bandaged. _Oh, yeah, the tupilak. Dean! _He stood and headed towards the door, stopping as the IV in his hand tugged at him. _Ok, I might be out of it a bit. _Sam dropped back down on the bed and punched the nurse call button instead.

"What can I do for you?" a young woman said, walking around the curtain.

"My brother?"

"Yes?"

"Is he, is he still alive?" Sam said. _Please say yes, please._

"The doctor wants to speak with you, but yes, your brother is alive." She pulled the curtain back.

"Oh god, Dean," Sam said, standing carefully and stepping to Dean's bed, pulling the IV stand with him. He sank into the chair beside Dean. His brother's neck was bandaged, Sam could see the bulk of a bandage on Dean's leg, one wrist was swathed in white as well. Dean's eyes were moving behind his eyelids and Sam could see tremors running through his brother's body. _Oh, god, Dean, I'm so sorry. _

"Mr. Sheehan? I did the patch job on your brother," a man in scrubs said.

"How is he?"

"He lost a lot of blood," the doctor said. _Yeah, doc, ya think? _"I repaired the damage caused by the, I think they said bear? The rest I am not so sure of, one of the medics said you thought he had been poisoned?"

"Yeah," Sam said, looking down at Dean. "Will he make it?" Silence greeted the question, Sam looked up at the doctor, the man was frowning, concerned. It looked like genuine concern. "Doctor?"

"Can you tell me more about the poison?"

"Yeah," Sam said. He told the doctor about the symptoms, the tremors, the hallucinations

"I don't know, I…" The doctor paused for a moment. "I might have seen this before, a hiker about five months ago. If it's the same, I might be able to…"

"Save him?" Sam said, sudden hope blazing in his chest like a flame.

"No," the doctor shook his head. "But I might be able to help with the hallucinations. It was an accident with the other man, he was screaming, in pain. I gave him something for that, and it stopped the hallucinations. At least that way…"

"He could die in peace?" Sam said, swallowing hard.

"Well, the hiker did. Maybe this time…" The doctor looked down at Dean, watching him for a long moment. Sam watched too, Dean's body was tensing, reacting to something that only he could see. "It might help, if you are willing to try?"

"Of course," Sam said. "Anything." The doctor left the room and was back a few minutes later with a syringe.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yes." Sam watched the doctor administer the drug, then turn to look at Dean. His brother sighed a tiny bit, the noise just audible of the hiss of the oxygen. The tremors were easing a tiny bit, the rapid eye movement slowly ceasing, with another sigh Dean relaxed. Sam waited. Dean's chest rose as he took another breath and another. Sam put a hand on Dean's arm, needing the contact. He leaned back in the chair with a sigh of his own.

**XXX**

The moths were everywhere, holding him down, making it hard to breathe. _Sam, oh god, Sammy. _He would never forget the feeling of his brother's body, the hole where his chest had been. _Why Sam? How? _The moths were tearing at him, pulling bits of him away to feed to a large bear. _I thought it killed me, I wanted it to. Sam? Why are you dead? _ Its mouth was red with his blood. _You weren't supposed to leave me here alone. _The pain was growing again, he wanted to scream, but the moths wouldn't let him, they were choking him, killing him bit by bit with their wings, he could hear the seal breathing, waiting for its share. _Sam! _Then, suddenly, the moths started leaving, he could breathe a little easier, they were going. His body relaxed and he slipped away into the dark. _Finally._

It was warm. That was the first thing. He was somewhere where it was warm. There was another warmth, more immediate, on his arm, heavy, familiar, comforting. He was dry, it was quiet. Memory began to come back. He groaned as he remembered.

"Dean?"

"Ssmmmy?" he said.

The warmth on his arm tightened. "Hey, man," Sam said, relief in his voice.

"You're alive?"_I'm hallucinating again. _"Sammy?"

"What?"

"Alive?" he said. Grief closed his throat, he felt tears in his eyes. "You were…I thought…before the bear…Sam."

"I'm alive, Dean," Sam said. "We both are."

Dean opened his eyes. It was still dark. "Sam?" he said again, a little panicked now. He could feel his hands shaking a little. _At least it doesn't hurt anymore. Stupid moths._

"I'm right here," his brother said gently.

"Where are we?"

"Hospital."

"Oh, good job," he said. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Is this real? Are you ok?" He could hear fear in his own voice.

"This is real, Dean. The doctor gave you something that stopped the hallucinations. We are in the hospital, I'm ok. We've been here about twelve hours. I slept for the first bit, but I'm ok now," Sam said.

"I thought…" Dean swallowed. "I thought you were dead, I found you, you were cold, the bear had…there was a hole in your chest. Then the bear, I think it killed me."

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. Dean heard a lot in that one word.

"How much was real?"

"I'm not dead." Dean heard the small smile in his brother's voice. "But the bear did attack you. I think it might have killed you a little." Sam laughed a little, it was not really a pleasant sound. "But you were only mostly dead."

"Oh, that's comforting," Dean said. "But it's not long, is it?"

"Is what?"

"Till I'm more than mostly dead, Sammy."

"Not funny, Dean."

"No," Dean said._Not funny at all, Sam. Sorry, but it's the truth, isn't it? Charlie killed me, we're just waiting a bit for the burial._

"I'm going to solve this," Sam said.

"Sammy…"

"No, Dean, I am going to solve this. I was waiting for you to wake up before I left, I'm going to go talk to Charlie," Sam said. Dean heard Charlie's death in his brother's quiet voice.

"Sam, no."

"Yeah, Dean, I'll be back in two hours, wait for me."

"Sam…" _I don't think I have two hours, Sam. Just stay here, go when I'm gone._

"Two hours, Dean, just wait, ok?"

"I…"

"Promise," Sam said softly. "Promise me you'll wait till I get back."

"I'll do my best, Sammy."

Sam took his hand in a tight grip. "Promise, Dean."

"Promise, Sam," he said. His brother gave his hand a squeeze and then set it on the bed.

"I'll be back, Dean, I promise, too." Sam left, his footsteps echoing a little as he moved out of the room and down the hall.

_I wonder what happened to the bear? If it attacked me, did Sam kill it? Sam? You might want to hurry a little. _He listened to the nurses talking quietly, he could hear a TV playing. _Is that in my room? Maybe I should change the channel? _Time was passing, he was sliding in and out of awareness, each time the shadows claimed him a little more. A nurse came in and said something to him, he wasn't sure what she said, she might have said something about sleep.

"I can't, not yet, waiting for Sam," he said. She left.

Someone else came in, he was mostly gone now, he could just sense a presence beside the bed. A gentle compassionate voice was speaking to him, maybe praying for him, he didn't know. It might have been last rites.

"Can't go, waiting for Sam," he whispered to the shadow.

Awareness was gone, just a hush, cool against his face. There was no pain, there was nothing. "Not yet, waiting," he said to the silence.

"Dean?" Sam's hand curled a round his arm.

"Waited, Sam," he said. He could barely hear his own voice.

"Dean? It's ok," Sam was saying.

"I waited, can't wait anymore, Sam."

"Dean, no." Sam's hands were on his shoulders, holding him there.

"Sam…"

"No, Dean, please no, not now, not…" Sam was talking, the words weren't making sense anymore.

"Waited…" the word slid out of him. He could hear Sam talking to someone, his brother's voice was frightened, desperate. He heard something else, it sounded funny, like a note of music held too long. It didn't matter.

"Dean," Sam's voice, close to him. "No, hang on."

The note continued, then drifted to silence, everything was silent, dark.

_Sorry, Sam. I did wait, remember that, remember I waited. _

_**To Be Continued**_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. Thanks to heather03nmg for setting me out on this journey! Thanks to beta Abni for hard work with all these chapters and Dennis for the invaluable help he offers!_

**Behind the Wall of Sleep**

**Chapter Seven**

_Now from darkness there springs light  
Wall of Sleep is cool and bright  
Wall of Sleep is lying broken  
Sun shines in you have awoken_

The room was quiet, the muted sound of voices drifting down the hallway. The TV was on, a cooking show providing a small distraction. _Not much of a distraction though. _Sam still had a hand on Dean's arm. His brother had dropped into seemingly dreamless sleep shortly after the doctor had given him the injection. Sam was keeping a close eye on Dean, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the soft beep of the heart monitor.

The hours had passed. It was six hours since he had woken up the first time, about twelve since they arrived at the hospital. _As soon as he wakes up I am going for Charlie. We left the Impala there. It's about five miles out of town, not too far to walk, and I will have the car to come back. Maybe, oh, please, maybe Charlie has an antidote for the poison. Would he be willing to trade for it? I'll offer him his life for Dean's. I'll be lying, but I will offer the trade._

Dean sighed. Sam shifted his focus back to his brother. Another small sound, then a groan filled with pain. Dean opened his eyes, Sam saw him slump back as he realized he still couldn't see. _I can go in a minute, I need to get to Charlie. _Sam gently explained to Dean what had happened. The bear attack, the hospital, why the hallucinations had ended. _And I was waiting to talk with you, I need to go, Dean. Charlie needs to understand that this is over. For him at least._

"I'm going to solve this," Sam said firmly, trying to convince Dean. _Maybe trying to convince myself a little, too._

"Sammy…" Dean said, with his sightless eyes turned towards Sam.

"No, Dean, I am going to solve this. I was waiting for you to wake up before I left, I'm going to go talk to Charlie," Sam said. _And after we are done talking, the "he doesn't get to die easy" part comes._

"Sam, no."

"Yeah, Dean, I'll be back in two hours, wait for me." _You aren't going to get me to change my mind about that discussion, Dean. He pays for this._

"Sam…" Dean whispered, his voice becoming less and less audible as they spoke.

"Two hours, Dean, just wait, ok?" _Please, Dean, wait._

"I…"

"Promise," Sam said softly. "Promise me you'll wait till I get back."

"I'll do my best, Sammy."

Sam took Dean's hand in a tight grip. "Promise, Dean." _Promise you will wait for me, Dean. Please. A promise can't be broken, doing your best can._

"Promise, Sam," Dean said. He squeezed Dean's hand a little, Dean hung on tight for a minute. Sam knew what Dean needed to hear.

"I'll be back, Dean, I promise, too." He put his brother's hand back on the bed and gave it a little pat before turning to walk out of the room. Sam paused at the door and looked back, Dean was staring into the room with blind eyes, he was humming something, Sam couldn't quite place the song although the soft melody stayed with him as he walked down the hall and out of the building.

It was cold outside, snow covering the ground, the sidewalk a little slick where the salt had melted the snow and the water had frozen into ice. Sam headed out of the parking lot and started walking along the road, the cold seeping into his clothing as he walked. He crossed through town walking at a fast pace, the song Dean had been humming still playing in his head. Sam was humming those same three bars over and over, hoping the rest of the song would suddenly appear out of nowhere. _It works that way sometimes. _He was so caught up in his thoughts he almost missed it. But the image, ignored at first, caught up with his brain.

The Impala.

The car was parked in a supermarket parking lot. Sam walked over to it, running a hand along the trunk as he reached it. _Why is it here?_ He pulled his keys out of his pocket and dropped into the driver's seat. As he slid his key into the ignition he glanced up at the store. Bill the helicopter pilot was walking out with a grocery sack and a six-pack of beer. _Should I get out and talk to him about taking Dean's car? Dean would kill him if he knew he took his baby and hotwired her or something. I should discuss that with Bill. No, I'll leave that pleasure to Dean. Got that? Saving the body for you, Dean. You can't kill him if you don't wait for me. I need to get to Charlie and get back to Dean, and if I go after Bill here someone might call the cops. _

He started the car, smiling with grim satisfaction when Bill looked up and then started running towards the car, yelling at Sam the whole time. Sam threw the car in reverse, heading towards Bill, the man jumped out of the way, hitting the pavement hard in his bid to escape the Impala. _And I didn't actually hit him, he just thought I was going to._ He glanced in the rearview mirror, a little smile spreading on his face. Bill was picking himself up off the ground, gathering rolling beer cans. _That'll teach you to steal my brother's car._

Sam drove out of town, the car was sliding a little on the snowy road. _If I wreck her, Dean will murder me. Dean? Hang on long enough to murder me, ok? _The town fell away abruptly, the trees suddenly thick on either side of the road. Sam pulled up at the gate to Charlie's ten minutes later. _Do I risk driving up? Bill might have called him and let him know someone took the car. But they probably still think we are out in the woods waiting to become tupilak food._ He eased the car up beside the fence and got out. His hands were shaking. The rage that had started when he realized what was happening to Dean was now taking over. _I have to find out if there is an antidote. I need to stay calm long enough to get the antidote. Just that long. God, I hope I last that long. I have to find the antidote._

As he walked up the road to Charlie's door, the white-hot rage cooled into an icy calm. The violence was just contained below the controlled surface. _It might be a problem in a minute or two. _His hands were no longer shaking, they were clenched in white-knuckled fists. _I have to stay calm. I need to keep it together for Dean. I have to. _The rage was simmering under the surface, volcanic water brushing the edge of a glacier. _Ok, take a deep breath, stay calm. Dean? I'm hurrying. Wait for me. _The need to get back to Dean, knowing his brother's promise and his uncanny sense of time calmed Sam. He stepped silently onto the porch and eased the door open.

"Bill?" Charlie said from the other room.

"Nope," Sam said quietly. He didn't recognize his own voice.

"Who's there?" Charlie said, coming into the room.

"Weren't you expecting me?" Sam could hear the rage in those four quiet words.

"Sam? That you?" Charlie said with a broad smile. "Made it out, did you?"

"Yes," Sam said.

"Well, I'll be damned."

_Not till I'm done, and you'll be happy for hell then. _"Yes, you will," he said quietly. "I want to make a deal." _Or I want you to think I want to make a deal._

"Oh?"

"Your life for my brother's," Sam said, watching Charlie. The man had edged over by a cabinet on the far wall.

"He's not dead yet?" Charlie said with a sly smile. "He screaming? The screaming is the best part. I always wondered if it was the pain or the visions that made them scream. Dean get a chance to tell you?"

"Are you willing to deal, Charlie, or not?" Sam said softly. The calm was starting to break. Sam was still watching Charlie as he reached into the cabinet. _Is he going for a gun or something else?_

"Why should I?"

"I might let you live."

"I don't think you'd kill me in cold blood."

"It wouldn't be in cold blood, and it won't be me," Sam said. He heard the rasp of claws on the wooden floor. The polar bear approached and stopped beside Sam. The bear let out a whoosh of breath. Charlie froze.

"What is that?" Charlie said his eyes wide with fear.

"What do you think it is?" Sam said. "Tupilaks, Charlie, once you send them out, they are set on their course, unless they are turned by another person. I think you know what happens then." Sam watched as Charlie swallowed, the man was sweating and his face was paper white.

"It comes for the original magician. But if it's going to kill me, why should I help you?" Charlie said.

"Maybe it won't," Sam said. "Maybe I figured out a way to keep it from heading out the moment I turned it, maybe I can stop it." Charlie's hand ran along the cabinet shelf, stopping briefly before moving on.

"Dean's dead, Sam, just let it go." Charlie took a step away from the cabinet.

"There has to be an antidote, Charlie."

"There is nothing, no cure. I spent years working on it."

The bear suddenly growled. Sam heard something on the porch, footsteps. He turned his head slightly and saw Bill edging through the door. He had a revolver in his hand. The bear half turned towards Bill, he froze, looking from the bear to Sam to Charlie.

"What's going on?" Bill said.

"We were discussing what's happened to my brother," Sam said softly. The bear growled in sympathy with his tone. "You might as well join the discussion."

Bill stepped further into the room, putting himself between Sam and Charlie. "I thought that was you in the car. Why I took someone else's to get out here, thought there might be trouble."

"No trouble," Sam said calmly. "I want the antidote for Dean. Simple." The bear lifted its paw a little. "I think your gun is bothering the bear."

"Don't do something stupid, Bill." Charlie had turned his head towards the sound of Bill's voice. "Kill the bear."

Sam laughed. "Doesn't really work, you know. I tried once or twice. It just comes back a little bigger and a lot angrier." Sam shifted a little, looking at Bill. The pilot dropped the gun on the floor.

"Fool," Charlie growled.

"The antidote?" Sam said.

"No antidote."

"Ok," Sam said. The bear moved forward and knocked Bill to the other side of the room with a massive paw. It walked up to Charlie and stood in front of him, one paw resting on Charlie's foot, its huge head inches away from Charlie's blind eyes. "Antidote."

"No."

_There has to be, come on, there has to be. Everything has an antidote. Oh, god, is he just stalling, just long enough to make sure Dean dies before I get back? _"Yes, Charlie." The bear shoved at Charlie, pushing him against the cabinet, the shelf cutting into Charlie's back.

"You think you can control this thing?" he said desperately. "You can't, once you lose them, you can't control them."

"I can," Sam said, listening to the cold calm in his voice. _I sound a little like Dean, like dad, right before all hell breaks lose. Too bad for Charlie I don't break that often, makes it worse, really. I am impressed with the calm. _The bear lifted a paw and rested it on Charlie's face, the enormous claws spanning the entire breadth of the man's face.

"Tell him," Bill said, pulling himself up. Sam noted the pilot had blood on his face and shoulder from where the bear's claws caught him. _And I don't really mind. He was involved in this too, I will probably mind later. Not now, though._ "Tell him."

"Nothing to tell," Charlie said. The bear looked over at Sam and then back to Charlie, letting the huge claws drift down his face. Charlie groaned, then clamped down on the sound.

"God damn it, Charlie, tell him, it's over." Bill said, the bitter words coming out with a snap.

"No, nothing to tell," Charlie said, then cried out in pain as the polar bear took his arm in his mouth.

"There's an antidote," Bill said, desperation in his voice as he watched what the bear was doing to Charlie.

"No, you bastard, shut your mouth," Charlie yelled.

"He tried it on me first, he said he just wanted to blind your brother, and that the last time it hadn't worked." Bill looked at Sam with frightened eyes. "I went blind, but then the hallucinations started. The spell and poison took more than the eyesight, it took the mind as well, and my loving brother couldn't let me die."

_Did he just say brother? _"And?" Sam said.

"He came up with an antidote. I hadn't had the poison in me as long as your brother, but it might save him, at least his life, maybe not his eyes. I nearly lost mine as well, and I only had about fifteen hours of the stuff. And I never had another dose."

"Neither did Dean," Sam said with a sinking feeling. "I ate everything he did."

"Once you have the first big dose don't need much to keep it going. And it probably did affect you, just not much, exhaustion, maybe a little dizziness. I put it in the instant coffee myself."

_No, no, I'm so sorry Dean, I never thought. Oh god, I killed you. I did it. _He took a deep steadying breath, rage and grief nearly driving his temper over the edge. The bear picked up on his distress and calmly bit through Charlie's arm. "Yeah?" Sam said to Bill as Charlie screamed. Sam felt a tiny twinge of regret. _No. He sent the bear. He did that to Dean._

"He came up with the antidote, it worked for me, it's in the kitchen, a red bottle in the cupboard," Bill said.

Sam turned towards the door to the kitchen. "Wait," he said to the bear. He walked into the small room, remarkably clean considering Charlie was blind. _Although maybe Bill helps clean this up, too? _Sam started opening cupboards, he found the bottle in one full of other bottles and packets of herbs and strange-smelling mixtures. There were several jars with the remains of animals. And…_Oh, god, that looks like a human hand. _It was missing part of a finger. He grabbed the red bottle off the shelf and headed back into the living room.

The bear had let go of Charlie's arm but was still standing in front of him, resting one paw on his chest. The bear looked over when Sam came back in the room. "Thanks, Bill. If this isn't the right stuff…"

"It is," Bill said. "It's what he used on me."

"No, no," Charlie screamed. "He deserves to die."

"Just like all the others, Charlie?"

"Others?" Sam said, remembering what Charlie had said about his friend Jim and what the doctor had said about the hiker.

"Yeah, seven people after he tested that first bit on me, slowly strengthening the dose, seeing what repeated doses did. Seven. And all but one died screaming, the kid got away. Ran, some cops picked him up before I could catch him. He even had me hack off a hand to use to strengthen the damn stuff. It's over, let it end." Bill said desperately.

"NO!" Charlie screamed again, and before Sam could react, Charlie had pulled a gun from somewhere hidden in the cabinet. He turned the muzzle towards the sound of his brother's voice and fired several rounds in quick succession. Bill yelled in pain and dropped to the floor.

The bear pushed Charlie down on the floor as Sam ran to Bill. The man was still alive, just barely. "It's ok, I'll get you to the hospital," Sam said. _Dean will kill me for getting blood, especially this guy's blood, in the car._

"No," Bill whispered. "I'm dead, let me go. I helped him, you know, I helped kill those people. I'm not worth saving." Bill closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again. "He's not worth saving either. I'm sorry about your brother." And he sighed out a final breath.

"Is he dead?" Charlie said from beneath the bear.

"Yes," Sam said, standing. "You killed your brother."

Charlie laughed, a hysterical, insane sound. "Yes, yes I did, just like your brother, and if John were still alive, I would have killed him too. You were the only one, and hell, if you had gotten dead? Wouldn't have bothered me at all."

"You killed your brother," Sam said again. _How could he kill his brother?_

"Call off the bear, you have the antidote."

"You didn't give it to me, Bill did," Sam said. _How could he? He killed his brother._

"He was a coward," Charlie spit out. "Call the bear off."

Sam walked over to where Charlie was pinned under the giant animal. "You know how tupilaks work, Charlie. You send them out. They get turned, they come back with a vengeance. Nothing I can do about it."

"You said you could."

"I lied." Sam stood and walked out of the room. He heard the soft growl of the bear and then Charlie's screams in an increasing howl. Sam raced down the driveway to the sounds of the screams. He could still hear Charlie and the bear's deep roar as he reached the Impala, he dove in and slammed the car into drive. _Hang on Dean, I'm on my way._

Sam drove back over the snowy roads, the car sliding back and forth as he pushed the speed to the safest possible limit. _Nothing like having the drive wheels under the light part of the car. Makes it extra fun. It's why people drive front wheel drive, Dean. _He immediately regretted the unkind thought directed at the car. _Sorry, man, didn't mean it._

The roads were much easier to navigate as he approached the hospital. Luckily, there was an open spot right by the door. Sam parked the car and sprinted into the building. He nearly knocked over a couple carrying a balloon bouquet in his rush to get to the elevator. He punched the button repeatedly. _Dean always says that makes it come faster. Hang on, I'm on my way. Wait, Dean. _When the doors opened, he burst out of the elevator and ran into Dean's room.

"Not yet, waiting," Dean said quietly, his voice barely audible, as Sam entered the room.

"Dean?" Sam walked over to his brother's bed and put his hand gently on Dean's arm.

"Waited, Sam," Dean said.

"Dean? It's ok." _I have the antidote, it's going to be ok._

"I waited, can't wait anymore, Sam."

"Dean, no." He grabbed Dean's shoulders, hoping to hold his brother there for a little longer. _No, Dean, come on. I meant wait till I solved it, not just till I got back. I'll be more specific next time, if you just let there be a next time._

"Sam…"

"No, Dean, please no, not now, not yet, I have the antidote."

"Waited…" the word sighed out of Dean, it had the sound of finality to it

"What's going on?" The doctor had followed Sam into the room.

"I have the antidote, I think," Sam said, looking at the doctor. "It might save him."

"I'm not sure…"

"He's dead if we don't, right?" Sam said, desperately. Dean was relaxing under his hands. Sam knew what was happening. _No, Dean you can't go, not now, please. _"Dean." The heart monitor started making odd noises. "No, hang on." _Please, Dean, I made it back, I think I solved it, just hang on long enough to let this work. Please?_

The doctor stepped up to the bed and looked at Sam. He met Sam's eyes for a moment as the monitor changed tone. The doctor nodded. Sam wrenched Dean's mouth open and poured the powder in. _It should dissolve on his tongue, god, I hope that's enough. He's not breathing, oh god, he's not breathing. Please, Dean, hang on. Come on._

"Wait outside," the doctor said as other staff ran in the room.

"Just hang on, Dean," Sam whispered to his brother as he turned to leave the room.

The doctor bent over Dean. "He's not breathing."

_Yeah, got that. _Sam walked out of the room and stood beside the door listening to what was going on in his brother's room. _I should have said three hours. Would he have waited that long? I meant wait long enough to live, no die as soon as I got back. Actually, Dean, not die at all would be the best choice. Please, Dean, don't die. _He was surprised by the sudden shout of amazed profanity. He ran to the door. "What happened?"

"He's breathing on his own. He just started breathing on his own, before we could do anything."

Sam sagged against the wall. _He's alive. It worked. I think it worked. _He pushed himself off the wall and went to Dean's bed. The doctor looked up at him with a bemused smile. "His heart is stabilizing, too," the doctor said, shaking his head.

Sam sank down into the chair beside the bed. _Before I do something like falling down, that would be embarrassing. _He smiled at the doctor. "Thank you."

"Wasn't me," the doctor said with another shrug and left the room.

Sam looked over at Dean, his brother was breathing better, the even rise and fall of his chest comforting to Sam. He was surprised when Dean sighed. "Dean?"

"Waited," his brother said softly.

"Yeah, well next time I'm going to demand a little more on the promise," Sam said, hearing the relief in his voice.

"Sam?" Dean's eyes opened.

"Right here, Dean."

"You ok?"

"I'm fine, so are you. Charlie had an antidote."

"Can't see," Dean whispered.

"It might take awhile," Sam lied. _Oh, no, no, no, Dean. _

"K, Sammy," Dean's eyes closed again. "Sleepy."

"Rest, I'm not going anywhere."

"Good."

_He still can't see. No. No. It has to work. _Sam put his head in his hands, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes. _No, he has to be able to see. Please? _He really had no idea who the please was directed to, just outward to the universe at large.Sam sighed and leaned back in the chair. The last few hours were starting to catch up with him. He put his hand back on Dean's arm and let his eyes close. _I can nap for a minute. _He heard himself snoring a little even before he was all the way out, the song Dean had been humming still chasing around in his head.

**XXX**

The sound of a sigh woke him. _I think that was me. _It was quiet in the room, a TV was playing softly, just a murmur in the background. He could hear the beep of a heart monitor. _Nice that it's beeping, pretty sure last time I heard it I was dead. _Dean hurt, his leg, his arm, his neck. _You get chewed on by a polar bear, I guess you have to expect things like that. What happened? I think I remember something about an antidote. Thanks, Sammy. _He listened for several minutes more, still afraid to open his eyes. _Not ready to face that yet. _He could hear Sam's voice talking quietly to someone to his left.

"Sam?" he said, his voice coming out in a whisper. _Ok, get gnawed on by a bear and you can't talk loud either. _"Sammy?"

"Here, Dean," his brother said. Dean felt weight settle on the edge of the bed.

"You ok?"

"We already covered that, yes, I'm fine," Sam said with a little exasperation in his voice.

_Got to check, you know that, Sam. _"What happened?"

"I talked with Charlie, he had an antidote," Sam said.

"Sam?" _You think you are fooling me? Think I can't hear what happened in your voice?_

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Talk to me."

He heard Sam swallow. "I went to Charlie's. He wasn't to give me the antidote, he said there wasn't one. I tried to persuade him."

"You hurt yourself?" Dean said keeping his voice as level as possible. His heart was pounding a little harder than it had been, he could even hear the monitor speed up a bit.

Sam must have heard it too, he put a hand on his leg. "The tupilak was there. I figured out how to turn it when I sent it away from you. It was a little angry with Charlie. That's the problem with spells like that."

_So you used the big fluffy bear to convince Charlie? God, Sam, what did you do? _"And?"

"Bill the pilot showed up, apparently Charlie tried the poison on him first," Sam suddenly stopped. "They were brothers, Dean."

"Sam?" He heard the soft note in his brother's voice. _Something terrible happened._

"Charlie killed Bill, he killed his own brother," Sam said, his voice sounded confused.

"Sam, Charlie was crazy."

"I know, but to kill…" Sam broke off again.

"What happened to Charlie?"

"The polar bear got him," Sam said simply. Dean heard a lot in that statement. _What did you do Sammy?_

"There's more," Dean said, hearing the hesitation in his brother's voice.

"The coffee, Dean, they'd poisoned the coffee, I gave you more of the poison," Sam's voice broke. Dean could hear the tears there.

"You didn't know, Sam. You couldn't know."

"I…I…"

"Damn it, Sammy, you saved my life."

"It wasn't enough Dean, I should have gone sooner, I should have realized about the coffee…"

Dean recognized what was coming. _The full on "I should haves" it's not enough to save my life, he has to stop for a minute to kick himself a bit. Must be a family trait. _"Sam." He opened his eyes. Tears were running down Sam's face, there was a large bruise on the side of his head. Dean's eyes met his brother's.

"Dean?" Sam said, meeting his eyes.

"Damn it's good to see you," Dean said with a smirk, feeling the tears start and then spill down his own cheeks.

"Dean?" Sam said with a little frown, tears still running out of his eyes. A slow smile started spreading on his face. "Can you…?" he whispered, without really needed the nod from Dean. Sam reached out and pulled Dean up to him in a fierce hug. Dean returned the embrace before his brother set him down gently on the bed again. "Hey," Sam said as he scrubbed the tears off his face.

"Hey," Dean said, looking around the room. He brought his eyes back to his brother, Sam was grinning at him. "Thanks," he said around the lump in his throat. _I can see, I can see, I can see._

"Yeah," Sam said, still smiling.

"When do I get out of here?" Dean said, changing the subject. _Before I really lose it again, hug you and then, god knows what, make cookies or something. _

"They want to keep an eye on the bear injuries before they let you go."

"Then after they let me out, how about Vegas?"

"Vegas, Dean? Why?"

"It's about as far away from cabins in the snowy woods as we can get," Dean said with a grin. Sam nodded and grinned in response. "As far as possible."

"Good plan, Vegas it is," Sam said shifting off the bed. "Want to watch TV?"

"I'd be happy to watch mold grow right now, Sammy," Dean said, it came out with more emotion than he had intended.

Sam squeezed his arm. "I know." His brother settled in the bed beside the chair, then slid the safety rail down, so he could lean against the edge of the bed. Dean shifted just enough so their shoulders were touching. "Jethro Tull," Sam said suddenly.

"A little random," Dean said.

"The song you were humming, it's Tull," Sam said.

"What song?" Dean said, hearing the melody playing in his head again.

"I can't believe it."

"You get eaten alive by them, and you see what song pops into your head," Dean said with a grin. He nudged his brother's shoulder with his.

"Moths," Sam said, shaking his head.

Dean looked at Sam for a minute, then turned his attention to the TV, the song now playing in his head. He hummed softly.

_Oh the leaded window opened  
to move the dancing candle flame  
and the first moths of summer  
suicidal came  
suicidal came_

Sam was humming as well, Dean turned to look at him again, Sam met his eyes with a little smile. Dean shifted his glance to the window, the sun had finally broken through, lighting the snow to a near blinding brightness. He sighed and turned back to the bright shift colors on the television, and leaned against Sam a little more.

"You should get some sleep," Sam said gently.

"I want to watch for a little while, Sam," he said.

"I understand, but you need to sleep."

"Soon, I'll sleep soon." He finally drifted off, the colors on the TV going with him into his dreams, Sam's shoulder warm against his and the light of the sun still bright against his eyelids._  
_

_**The End**_

_A/N II: As we have all heard the CW has pulled our beloved show from the lineup as of Feb. 28. There are many reasons being bandied around, whatever the actual reason, we still need to let the network know how we feel about this show—so here's an idea, simple, and doesn't require a long letter. Buy one (or more)__** postcards**__ (postcard stamps are only 26 cents) from your hometown and just write:_

I am a fan and support Supernatural AND those advertisers that purchase time during the show

_A partial list of advertisers is available on my bio. Several of the biggest are AT&T, Victoria's Secret, Pantene, Crest, HP Computers and Kellog's. Make sure you sign your postcard! Send your postcards to:_

**Dawn Ostroff**  
President of Entertainment  
The CW Network 411 North Hollywood Way  
Burbank , California 91505 USA

_While you're at it, drop a postcard to Eric Kripke and let him know how much you appreciate the show as well._

**Eric Kripke**  
9465 Wilshire Blvd  
Suite 880  
Beverly Hills , California 90212 USA


End file.
